


No Imitations

by bealovelylady



Series: First Times (SouMako fics) [7]
Category: Free!
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anorexia, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, Eating Disorders, F/M, Future Fic, Heartbreak, Lingerie, M/M, Minor Character Death, Olympics, Original Character(s), Past Relationship(s), Strippers & Strip Clubs, Violence, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:19:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 188,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23798335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bealovelylady/pseuds/bealovelylady
Summary: Makoto had never been so happy. Eight months ago, standing before him was the love of his life. He was only seventeen then, they both were, and maybe Makoto hadn’t known very well what love was or what the future would give them, but in the moment, he was as happy as he’d ever been.Sousuke had looked awkward as all get out, but Makoto couldn’t help his bright, beaming smile. He wasn’t sure now what he’d expected; Sousuke had never seemed interested in him, but Makoto’s feelings for him had come to a breaking point, and through an unfortunate, no, fortunate happenstance, he’d confessed. When he’d stuttered the words out, broken, quiet, his face burning bright red, he’d shut his eyes and clenched his fists as he waited for rejection.“Ah... sure, I guess,” had been the response he’d gotten. He’d been blinded in that moment; he didn’t notice Sousuke’s dead stare or the way he wasn’t smiling. He hadn’t heard Sousuke mutter, “You’re cute, I guess. Whatever.” He hadn’t heard or noticed any of that because all he’d heard was Sousuke accepting his confession.But love was more complicated than a seventeen year old Makoto could have imagined.
Relationships: Hazuki Nagisa/Ryuugazaki Rei, Matsuoka Gou/Mikoshiba Seijuurou, Matsuoka Rin/Nanase Haruka, Tachibana Makoto/Yamazaki Sousuke
Series: First Times (SouMako fics) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1239056
Comments: 383
Kudos: 161





	1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheDamagedOne24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDamagedOne24/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy am I excited to be posting this one! This fic has been in the making since November, I believe? Thank you to TheDamagedOne24 for all of your support and amazing ideas and pushing me to write more than I ever thought I could. In case you didn’t notice, this fic has 30 chapters. I would say it’s my longest one but we’re working on one now that is already looking to surpass this one, but it’s still a whopper at 188k words! 
> 
> Anyways, this one’s a bit of a bumpy ride! Please read the tags and be forewarned! 
> 
> Enjoy!! 💓💓💓

Makoto had never been so happy. Eight months ago, standing before him was the love of his life. He was only seventeen then, they both were, and maybe Makoto hadn’t known very well what love was or what the future would give them, but in the moment, he was as happy as he’d ever been.

Sousuke had looked awkward as all get out, but Makoto couldn’t help his bright, beaming smile. He wasn’t sure now what he’d expected; Sousuke had never seemed interested in him, but Makoto’s feelings for him had come to a breaking point, and through an unfortunate, no, fortunate happenstance, he’d confessed. When he’d stuttered the words out, broken, quiet, his face burning bright red, he’d shut his eyes and clenched his fists as he waited for rejection.

“Ah... sure, I guess,” had been the response he’d gotten. He’d been blinded in that moment; he didn’t notice Sousuke’s dead stare or the way he wasn’t smiling. He hadn’t heard Sousuke mutter, “You’re cute, I guess. Whatever.” He hadn’t heard or noticed any of that because all he’d heard was Sousuke accepting his confession.

But love was more complicated than a seventeen year old Makoto could have imagined. He thought it was holding hands and staring at each other with gooey eyes, but instead it was working hard for dates and remembering that they couldn’t publicly display their affection. Sousuke never held his hand, or kissed him in public. He never said “I love you,” but Makoto still smiled anyways. He lived for the moments when they were alone, when Sousuke would let him hold his big hand or when he’d let Makoto kiss him. Makoto’s whole world was watching Sousuke swim with pride in his chest, knowing that this was _his man_. Makoto was too young to understand that there was such a thing as a bad relationship, or an unbalanced one.

He definitely didn’t understand that when Sousuke invited him over one day for a party, when there was beer cans and red Solo cups all over the floor, and they were both drunk out of their young heads. Sousuke had kissed him for the very first time, and Makoto had nearly died right then and there of happiness. It had been so easy for him to let Sousuke take his clothes off, and he’d lost himself in the feeling of Sousuke’s lips urgently seeking his own.

Sousuke had merely unzipped his pants, raging boner out and ready to go, and with Makoto’s last shred of intelligence, he’d pressed a hand in pause to Sousuke’s chest and stared at him with wide eyes.

“You have to p-prep me,” he’d stammered out, bright red again. Sousuke’s blasé expression stared back.

“You do it.”

Makoto blinked, a crack in his heart, but he covered it with a smile. He looked up at the man, the boy, really, he loved so, so much. He’d do anything, had done anything. He would give his whole world for Sousuke, but the one thing he would never do was admit how much it hurt to be in love with Sousuke. He would never admit that he knew Sousuke’s heart wasn’t in it; that his heart wasn’t Makoto’s at all. Sousuke was unreachable, untouchable still, no matter how much Makoto strived for the other, but when you’re 18 and in love, none of that matters. 

So Makoto slobbered over his fingers, eyes cast down, body shaking in terror and excitement, clutching to Sousuke’s big shoulder with his other hand. He’d worked himself loose, Sousuke staring at him like he was watching a documentary on birds. Makoto had swallowed his pain and he’d dipped his head down and shut his eyes, kissing Sousuke just to feel something, to remember that Sousuke had to feel _something_ for him, why else would they be here now?

Sousuke had given him two minutes. “Now,” he huffed in great impatience, and when Makoto looked up, he was taken aback by the _excitement_ and _need_ in Sousuke’s eyes. It had floored him, stolen his breath away. And oh so willingly, though it was far too painful and nearly tore him apart, he’d let Sousuke take his virginity on the living room floor amidst empty beer cans and lukewarm cups of wine.

A few days later, he’d watched Sousuke receive the most devastating news of his life. The doctor even looked uncomfortable in the face of Sousuke’s rage, and Makoto had only been able to stand there with his head cast down and tears, unshed, in his eyes. That night, he’d cried for Sousuke in his bed, sobbed himself to sleep. Sousuke didn’t text or call, nor did he respond to any of Makoto’s attempts. Three days passed, graduation coming and going but Makoto felt nothing.

Sousuke, who loved swimming, maybe the only thing he truly loved, who he had dreams of going pro with, who’d worked himself so hard that he’d ruined himself, would never swim again.

Eight months of happiness came crashing down as, once again, the love of Makoto’s whole life stood before him with a dull expression and pain unfathomable in his eyes, but it wasn’t the pain Makoto needed. Makoto needed the pain for the words Sousuke said, but there was only pain for his situation, for himself. But Makoto loved, loved, loved so much this selfish, stiff, cruel man. He loved him so much even as tears streamed down his face, as Sousuke stared at the top of his head, silent.

“Tachibana, I have to do this. If there’s a chance I can swim again, I have to take it.”

Makoto nodded, biting his lips so hard he almost broke the skin. “I know,” he whispered. “I know you’d regret it forever if you didn’t go.” He also knew long distance would never work for them. This was goodbye. The cruelest of goodbyes. It was the unspoken words of, _You’ll only hold me back; I can’t stay here and wallow with you._

Without a word, Sousuke had decided by himself that he would go to America in pursuit of a highly experimental treatment for his broken shoulder, because above all else, Sousuke loved to swim; he was nothing without it. Makoto’s heart screamed that he should be enough, but reality had never matched his fantasy when it came to Sousuke. He’d accepted every disappointment quietly, tucked it away, and now all of the pain and hurt came crashing out and around him and Makoto couldn’t even beg Sousuke to reconsider. He was so hurt. He let Sousuke go. He replaced Sousuke’s regret with his own and he let Sousuke go.

With tears down his face, he looked up and gave his best smile, head tilting to the side as he said, earnestly, truthfully, “I hope it works and you’ll be able to swim again one day, Sou.”

Sousuke had paused for a split second, huffing out a small thank you, before turning and walking away. There was no glance back, no words of comfort for Makoto. Eight months washed down the drain for Sousuke, but Makoto clung to their happy moments with all of his strength. Despite everything, he loved Sousuke, still, truly, truly loved him.

Makoto had never been so heartbroken.

**Nine months later**

Makoto stared at his phone, at the message from his mom he’d never responded to. He’d had a breakdown seven months ago, and texted his mother in the early morning hours. The moment she’d seen it, she’d texted that they were coming to see him and what kind of snacks would he like. Now he would never get the chance to respond to them either...

Just below that were the one-way messages from Haru, who, bless his heart, had never tried so hard before, but the moment Makoto had shut everyone out, Haru had been there with a simple message of, “Hey.” Especially after the accident, when Haru had become more insistent with his contact and Makoto more withdrawn.

 _Hey. Hi. Hello?_ The texts had come every once in a while, never more than one word. _Makoto._

Makoto smiled at the last few, thought about how he really missed Haru, thought that he should respond, but he never did. No one had spoken a word of it, but everyone had sensed just how much Sousuke leaving had broken Makoto. He hadn’t swam since that day, had barely smiled since then, hadn’t spoken to Haru or Gou or...

Gou was much more stubborn than Haru, had refused to let Makoto go silently, but Makoto had barely spoken to her either. Finally she’d given up, with an angry message, her hurt obvious in her words, though it wasn’t directed so much at Makoto as it was at the situation. But Haru, bless his heart, had kept on. His truest friend; though Haru was hard to read and quiet most of the time, he had his own type of stubbornness, felt love for Makoto in his own way, and it had truly been one of the only things to save Makoto.

“Makoto,” called a familiar voice across the small bar. Makoto looked up with wide eyes from his phone, staring over at his coworker. Coming up beside them, their boss looked angry as he marched himself over to where Makoto stood leaning over the bar top.

“Get your fucking head together, Makoto! We’re opening soon and you’re standing there daydreaming.”

Makoto felt shame flush through his body. “I’m so sorry, sir!” he yelped out as he reached for the man’s shirt. He clung to it, making puppy dog eyes up at the man.

“Just get to work,” he said, sighing as he shrugged Makoto’s hand off, turning away.

“Yes!” Makoto pushed his phone into his pocket and straightened his small apron as he surveyed the room around him. The strip club he’d worked at for the past few months was now empty, but would soon be chock full of customers, men with too much money looking for attention in all the wrong places. Despite only being a waiter here, Makoto was still a favorite among many patrons, and always made good tips, even better than some of the strippers sometimes. They’d jokingly gripe at him, but every single one of them adored Makoto to pieces. Despite the competition it would cause, most of the strippers had told him he should start dancing as well.

But the last nine months had not been kind to Makoto’s body; he was smaller than he had ever been, his muscles slowly fading away as he did nothing to maintain them. Even now, sometimes it took one of his coworkers to remind him to eat. He would sometimes spend his whole lunch break staring off into space. No one asked about it, but everyone here was kind and concerned anyways. They all had hard lives, but that’s what made them all the more compassionate.

There was a soft tap to Makoto’s bare shoulder, and he turned around to find Nagisa standing there with a small smile on his pretty lips. “Darling,” he said with a lilt, his voice effeminate and soft when he spoke. He was one of the ones who had always had Makoto’s back since he had started working here. His manicured nails slid down Makoto’s arm as he smiled at the brunet. “Are you all right?”

Nagisa was perhaps one of the only ones in the club who knew the most of Makoto’s story. One night, Makoto had found himself a little drunk thanks to a persistent customer, and Nagisa had been the one to find him curled up on the couch in the back, to rub his back as he sobbed into a pillow. He’d been quiet as Makoto had shared some of his heartbreak, and then he’d quietly pulled Makoto up and hugged him close, held him until he stopped crying. He had never brought it up again, but there was a new light of concern in his eyes now whenever he found Makoto staring off into space.

“Are you doing all right today, love bug?”

Makoto pulled on his signature smile and nodded. “Yes, thank you, Nagisa-san.”

The blond frowned, his whole face pulling down comedically as he rolled his eyes. “I told you to just call me Nagisa. We’ve already known each other for over half a year now!”

Makoto smiled at the smaller man, a blush pooling in his cheeks. Nagisa smirked at him as he continued to rub Makoto’s arm, an odd fascination of his that Makoto let go. Actually, all of the strippers were obsessed with touching Makoto, but more than anything, it always made him smile. They were little touches of comfort that he’d never gotten much before in his life. Nagisa must have noticed Makoto’s thoughts turning, as he pulled him back physically, pulled him into a hug against his small body.

“Make sure you eat today! I’ll be on the pole all night since Tsumugi called out sick, so I can’t watch over you.”

Makoto promised to be good just as the sound of tapping nails against the bar top behind them pulled them apart, the bartender behind them clearing his throat.

“Rei, my darling!” crooned Nagisa as he practically launched himself over the countertop at his boyfriend. Rei huffed in annoyance and Makoto laughed, stepping out onto the floor to prep tables and make sure everything was ready for their opening in fifteen minutes. He had no time to stand around; it was Saturday night, and the club would be busy into the wee hours in the morning, until they closed.

x

Makoto’s heart slammed into his throat and he had to do a double take. The man who’d just walked in seemed to take up the whole space, and Makoto stumbled over his own feet as he walked the customer to an open booth. Makoto suddenly felt too exposed in his small, black shorts and sleeveless, button up shirt. He tugged nervously at his tie as the man before him lounged casually, looking silently over the drinks menu like he didn’t already know what he was going to order. When he looked up again, his blue eyes shocked Makoto to the core. Under the low light they looked teal, so similar if it wasn’t for the coy smirk on the man’s face. He was bigger, too, taller, the shirt on his body barely containing his muscles, and Makoto had to swallow hard and forcibly pull his eyes up to the man’s face.

“Get me a scotch on the rocks, cutie, and be quick about it.” A thick finger circled over the forgotten menu as he stared up at Makoto impatiently, eyes hungrily looking the other over. Makoto stiffly turned around, feeling eyes drilling into his ass as he walked away. He collapsed against the bar as soon as he was out of sight, Rei tossing him a concerned look. He walked over as soon as he’d finished mixing a drink for another customer.

“You okay?” he asked awkwardly. He was not as natural at this as Nagisa, but he was just as concerned for their fellow co-worker; he just didn’t know how to show it. Makoto smiled, knowing exactly what that looked like.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he whispered, and if Rei noticed the shake to his hands, he didn’t say anything. “A scotch on the rocks, please.”

Makoto watched as Rei poured the drink with ease, dropping in a ball of ice as he precisely measured out the alcohol in the glass. He was done in just a few seconds, and Makoto gratefully dipped his head. He wished sometimes Rei wasn’t as efficient, but he had no excuse now not to go back to serve the drink. He begged his legs not to shake, suddenly feeling shaky again on his heels; he hadn’t felt like this since he’d started wearing them eight months ago, when he first started this job.

The customer’s eyes were on Makoto the moment he came into view again, and he watched the whole time as Makoto struggled to maintain his composure as he made his way over. The smirk on the man’s face didn’t help at all, and Makoto barely kept from spilling the drink before he set it down on the table and slid it forward. Quick as lightning, a hand grabbed his wrist, and now Makoto was leaned over the table with his ass out and there was nothing he could do about it as he choked down a glob of spit in shock.

“Sir?” he squeaked out.

“Call me Kai,” the man in the booth quickly demanded, and Makoto bobbed his head before even processing it. “Thanks for the drink, honey buns.”

Makoto colored red. There was no true gratitude in the words, though; it was just expected of him. It was thanks for doing his job as the man had expected it to be done. Makoto shivered under the man’s grip and gaze.

“Sit down with me,” Kai ordered next, the grin back on his face. Makoto was scared to say no, but he knew any moment his boss would be out there to scold him if he actually sat, so he tugged away gently.

“I’m sorry, but I have other customers-“

“Really?” The man’s whole face shifted to blatant disbelief, like he couldn’t believe someone had actually turned him down, or that he was being disobeyed. Makoto slowly stood up straight and clutched his hands to the bottom of his apron, his palms wet.

“Yes, sir, sorry,” he squeaked out just before turning on his heels. A blue, icy gaze followed him to his next table, and then watched every interaction he had for the rest of the night. Makoto couldn’t breathe.

By the end of his shift, he collapsed down to the couch in the back room, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to inhale and exhale at a slower pace. Still, he couldn’t help the way his lips trembled up into a small smile. It hurt so much even now, thinking and wishing that the man had been Sousuke. It had been nine months since he’d last even seen Sousuke, but he remembered exactly how the other looked, talked. He remembered his rare smiles and the smell of his cologne, mixed with the chlorine from the pool. He remembered exactly how Sousuke’s arm flexed when he pushed his wet bangs back, how he shifted on his feet as he sighed with the exhilaration of a won race.

“Makoto~” called a lilting voice, Nagisa looking at Makoto like he’d just caught him red-handed, stealing from the cookie jar.

Makoto gave the other a shy smile, not even dazed by Nagisa standing before him in nothing but a pair of five inch heels and lace panties. His frame was so slim, and he moved with a grace that Makoto could never hope to match with his awkwardly large body. His hip was cocked now, arms crossed as he watched Makoto with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, what was with that guy?” asked Kisumi, another coworker and dancer there, as he slid to the couch next to Makoto, ignoring Nagisa. His bare chest pressed to Makoto’s arm as he hummed quizzically. He batted pink lashes up at Makoto.

“What guy?!” barked Nagisa suddenly, taking a step closer. Despite his small stature, he could be intimidating, and Makoto’s wide green eyes shot up to the blond.

“No one!” yelped Makoto, instantly realizing his mistake. “Just a customer!” he amended.

Nagisa huffed, but Kisumi pouted against Makoto’s shoulder. He wore a pretty black babydoll top and sheer panties, soft white fur around the edges to accent his small pectorals. Where Nagisa was small and fragile-looking with a big attitude, Kisumi was a big guy with a soft nature. He kicked his own pumps off and snuggled against Makoto’s arm, pressing it to his chest.

“I won’t let anyone steal you away from me, Mako-boo,” he pouted, clinging to the brunet. Makoto smiled sweetly down at the other man, shyly patting his head.

“No one’s stealing me away,” he reassured. _Definitely not that man._ He clenched the fist Kisumi held, turning his eyes away from Nagisa’s doubtful and furious stare.

“Makoto, any man who comes in here is absolutely no good, you hear me!”

“I know that,” said Makoto firmly. He knew absolutely what kind of men came here, and he knew perfectly well that Nagisa was 100% right. It didn’t matter; he wouldn’t fall for Kai. There was nothing to worry about.

Kisumi kissed his cheek hurriedly and pouted until the boss man came in, grumbling that they all had to leave so he could lock up. Everyone dressed quietly, the atmosphere silent and heavy around them. They wished each other quiet goodbyes, and Makoto made his way home to his small apartment and his cat.

x

Kai was there again the next night, but this time he’d brought a group of friends with him. They talked and joked loudly, Makoto desperately attempting to appear as small as possible as he moved around, but Kai caught him and beckoned him over with a single crook of his finger. Makoto’s cheeks burned even as he shuffled over to the large table, three large men stuffed into the round booth. All eyes swiveled to him, three grins growing at the sight of him shaking in his shoes.

“Hello there,” cooed Kai mockingly, and the other men followed suite with hoots and hollers.

“Why don’t you join us, cutie pie?” one crooned, Kai quick to smack him in the arm, but he smiled up at Makoto, something devilish behind it.

“Sit,” he said simply. Makoto just blinked at the man, at the full booth. Kai shoved one of his friends out, shooing him to the other side, then said again, more commanding, “Sit down.”

“I have other-“

“I’ll buy the top shelf.”

“Excuse me?” Makoto blinked in astonishment at the man before him, so confident. So like Sousuke but so wildly different. His black hair was combed back and his blue eyes were like tiny knives. Makoto shook.

“I’ll buy more than everyone else, so you just sit your pretty little ass down and service me, sweetheart.”

“N-no-“ Makoto began, petrified now. His mind raced as he wondered what to do. How should he get out of this?

Like an angel sent from above, Nagisa sidled up to Makoto’s side, leaning over the table to show off his goodies, hidden toyingly away in a light pink lace bralette. “What seems to be the problem here, gentlemen?” There was a too-nice tone to his voice that made Makoto tremble. He stared with wide eyes at the back of Nagisa’s head as the two friends hooted and hollered, hands reaching for Nagisa, but he was just out of their reach.

“Ooh, baby doll, come sit with me!”

“How much for a lap dance, cutie?”

Nagisa stood up and crossed his arms, smile cold. “I asked you a question.” 

“Don’t be like that, baby!”

Kai was silent, staring Nagisa down, trying to figure him out. Then he turned to Makoto and barked out in laughter, “What, is this your boyfriend or something? Or just an annoying little watchdog?”

Nagisa growled at that, but by now Kisumi was stepping in to intervene. He grabbed Makoto and Nagisa by the arm, apologizing profusely even as he escorted the two away.

“Are you okay?” hissed Nagisa to Makoto in concern when they were far enough away to not be heard.

“Uhm...” said Makoto in a trembling voice. “I’m okay,” he lied. “I just need to sit.”

“Go take a break behind the bar,” Kisumi told him as he ushered him there. He pushed Makoto down gently to his ass, grabbed him a glass of water as Nagisa told Rei to keep an eye out. Makoto was hidden away from view now, tucked behind the bar in a corner.

“I’ll go get boss-“ Nagisa said, but Makoto grabbed his arm and shook his head, scared.

“He’ll just tell me to suck it up and serve them,” he said with wide eyes. “Please, just give me a minute.”

Slowly Nagisa nodded, and he and Kisumi left Makoto with Rei. Makoto locked himself away with his thoughts. He missed his cat, Peanut Butter. Rei was silent, handing down tissues when Makoto started to cry. He didn’t say a word, but his presence was all the comfort Makoto needed right now.

“Oh, honey,” whispered Kisumi softly when he came back a while later to check on Makoto. “Go to the bathroom and wash your face. They’re gone.”

Makoto nodded and stood with Kisumi’s help, before he waddled off to the small men’s bathroom at the end of the hall. He stood over the sink, staring at his miserable face. If he could just forget about Sousuke... He hadn’t fully realized what a huge part of his life Sousuke had become until he’d left, leaving behind a gaping hole. Makoto’s whole world had crumbled apart. Even swimming didn’t bring any joy anymore. He’d shut his friends out, and for what? He was still sad, and lonely, and no closer to being okay. He rubbed at his eyes in frustration; why was he such a cry baby? He had lost so much, and his body showed it all too well. He would have filled out the shirt he wore so much better back then. Now it just clung to his slim waist. He smoothed his hands over the white top, wishing he could just go home, but he had a job to do, and at the very least, he should do what he could. He should try to face his problems himself, and be stronger, if only for those around him who gave too much to care for him. He needed to learn to stand on his own two feet. He’d lost his chance to learn before he’d even needed to know, and it was on him to teach himself now. No one else would, or could.

The door opened behind Makoto, and he hurriedly buried his face down, turning on the faucet to drown out his thoughts, splashing cold water on his face to clear away his demons and tears. Something hard and warm pressed to his ass, big hands grabbing his hips and pulling the body behind to Makoto, and he stood up with a yelp, face dripping onto his shirt.

In his ear husked a wildly attractive, low voice. “I sent my friends away. Come on, say thank you by coming out and spending some time with me.”

Makoto stared with wide eyes at the reflection of Kai in the mirror, pressed against his back. He looked so small compared to the other man. He felt weak. Still he smiled, a shaky thing.

“I’ll be out in a moment,” he said in his kind way, wiping away water with his hands. Kai hummed in his ear.

“On second thought, maybe here is good too,” Kai murmured, too seductive and suggestive for Makoto’s tastes. He froze with fear as Kai sucked on his neck.

“Ah- wait-“

Kai lifted his head suddenly and laughed aloud at the petrified look on Makoto’s face. “Don’t worry,” he chortled. “I’ll treat you better than that, darling~”

To Makoto’s neck, he ordered, “Now go get me another scotch; I’m out.”

Kai turned away and walked out without a worry, Makoto grabbing a handful of paper towels to scrub his face clear of cold water. He shivered, goose bumps on his skin, but he still felt the heat from Kai at his back. He shut his eyes and begged the feeling to go away. He needed to focus, be clear headed and strong. Kai could have easily had his way with Makoto, and he could have done nothing to stop it...

When he stepped out of the bathroom, he made his way to the bar to get a scotch on the rocks. Rei eyed him over his glasses as he made the drink. Makoto gave him a smile.

“I’m okay,” he promised, wondering who he was trying to convince. He straightened his spine and grabbed the tumbler Rei handed him, walking tall and proud to the booth in the corner, quiet now. Kai watched him come, waiting with arms spread over the back of the booth. He gave a knowing smile when Makoto set his drink down, not making a move this time.

Makoto half expected Kai to command him to sit again, but instead he waved him off. “Go on, do your job,” he stressed the last few words. “I’ll be watching from here.”

Makoto turned to walk away and realized with a shock that this booth had a perfect view of the whole club. Fear and heat shot up his spine at the same time. Nagisa caught his eyes for a moment, but Makoto quickly turned away. He could feel Kai watching him, analyzing everything. If he could just keep him happy, everything would be fine; that’s the feeling Makoto had.

Tonight he’d go home and cuddle with his fluffy, orange Persian cat and try his best not to cry. Tomorrow he’d be a stronger man. Tomorrow he’d be the man he needed to be without Sousuke in his life, because Sousuke wasn’t coming back.


	2. Happy/Happy?

There was something about the way Kai spoke that set Makoto on edge, like warning bells in his head, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was specifically. Every time the man came into the club, Nagisa or Kisumi would stare daggers at him, but he was always courteous enough to not get kicked out or called out for his behavior. Still, Makoto felt on edge around him, but there was nothing he could do when the man came in and sat in his section. They’d already switched Makoto’s section twice after Nagisa’s wild and vicious rants to their boss, but Kai wouldn’t give a moment of pause to ask another customer to switch tables with him. When it became too much of a disruption for other patrons, their boss sent Makoto back to his old section, and there was nothing else to be done.

Makoto knew Kai was there one Thursday night before he’d even spotted the man; he felt the chills down his spine before he could locate the culprit. Rei caught his eye, quickly slid him a scotch on the rocks, and Makoto took it in his grasp with an unsteady hand. He paused for a moment, breathed. He couldn’t keep relying on others, so he marched himself over to Kai’s normal table, looked at the way he sat like a stuck-up king on his throne, and set the glass down enough to make the ice clink loudly in the cup.

“I think you should stop coming here,” Makoto said in the harshest voice he had inside himself. “Please,” he added as his ears turned red. Kai just blinked at him, that grin refusing to wipe away like he _knew_ Makoto was barely able to say the words he just had.

The man leaned forward, his shirt sliding open a bit, and he slowly unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves, taking his time as he rolled them up. “Oh really?” he asked as he began to work on the second sleeve. By the time he looked up again, he had Makoto right where he wanted him, caught red-handed staring at strong, flexing forearms. 

Makoto swallowed, sliding the glass of alcohol towards the man in preparation to walk away.

“Makoto~” called Kai, and green eyes darted up and stared sideways at the top of the man’s head to avoid eye contact. He was already halfway turned away, and from the corner of his eye he could see Rei watching his body language like a hawk. Makoto set his hand down on the table hard, trying to hide the way his legs wanted to give out in a show of dominance, but his hand was trembling too.

“Don’t you think you should just go out with me?”

Kai’s big fingers slid over Makoto’s spread ones as they trembled on the top of the table. Makoto jerked his hand back like he’d been burned, clutching it to his chest as his eyes threatened to fill with tears.

“Please don’t be ridiculous!” he whispered fiercely, trying so hard to maintain his dignity.

“Makoto, dear, I know you find me attractive.”

He turned his face away, cheeks burning red as he couldn’t deny it.

There was the sound of something sliding across the table, silence following for a while until Kai said, “I got you something.”

More firmly, when Makoto didn’t look at it, “Open the box, sweetheart...”

Makoto’s fingers and eyes landed on a small box about the size of a small cell phone, his fingers taking in the rough paper cover, his eyes the fancy bow atop it. He read the name on the box before he hurriedly shoved the thing back to Kai.

“I’m not allowed to take gifts from customers. This is not a host club.” Makoto was surprised by his own tone. “Go next door if that’s what you want,” he said, his voice fading as he turned away and practically ran to the break room, his heels clacking over the floor. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it as he heaved loudly. The tears came as his shoulders trembled, as his knees shook and weakened. It was only the arms that caught him just in time that kept him off the floor.

“Jesus,” cursed Kisumi with a grunt as he hefted Makoto’s body up again and to the closest chair. “God, you’re skinny, but you still weigh a ton when you’re dead weight.” Purple eyes took in Makoto’s tear-streaked face and his pale complexion, the tremble in his hands, and he cursed again. “Fuck, darling, I have to go back, but I’m gonna-“ 

He scrambled to pull Makoto up as the other sagged forward, collapsing into sobs.  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he begged over and over as he cried, wondering why he was so affected, wondering why it mattered. He wished that his body had a limit to how many tears he could cry, and that by now it would be tapped out; he wanted to stop crying over every goddamn thing. Things that didn’t even remind him of Sousuke at all were setting him off now; he had fallen in love with one of the most useless, worst men, and yet he couldn’t even let it go. He punched his shaking hand to his leg and wished he could be strong again, happy, for goddamn once. When the door opened and closed behind him and familiar arms closed around his slim frame, he fell apart. 

Nagisa kissed his hair and wiped his face, silent, too silent as he let Makoto cry it out. There was a tension in the air that was slowly rising, but Makoto was oblivious to Nagisa’s growing bitterness and angst in the midst of the raging storm of his own emotions.

x

Nagisa had been strange since the day in the break room a few days ago, and Makoto was currently trying to avoid the other, to hide the dark eye circles and the puffy eyes he was sporting. Make-up did an okay job, enough for low club lighting, but Nagisa wasn’t so stupid to miss this. Nagisa was strangely silent when they passed each other, though, and Makoto was unnerved by that more than the giant bouquet of roses he saw as he rounded the corner by the bar. He stopped in his tracks, icy blue eyes catching sight of him as a smirk tilted up the edges of Kai’s lips.

There was a reason Makoto was losing sleep, why he was on edge all the time lately, and his name was Kai. The man was crawling slowly, slowly under his skin and it was awfully painful, like ripping open old wounds. Makoto didn’t even know what to do anymore; there was only so many times he could repeat himself before he sounded like a broken record, but Kai wasn’t getting the clear message. Or he didn’t care.

As he watched Makoto with that big grin, he beckoned the other over with the languid curl of his finger. Makoto felt his feet move without permission, walking him to the big table in the corner. Today he was silent when he stepped up to it, tired. Today he let Kai pull him down into the booth and curl a tight arm around slim shoulders. Today he let Kai whisper in his ear.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like the flowers, Makoto~” he whined mockingly, still grinning. He squeezed Makoto tighter, big fingers spreading to rub slowly over Makoto’s bare arm. “Sweetheart, everyone likes roses,” he cooed. Makoto felt his stomach turn recklessly. Kai’s grip tightened again, loosened again, more caresses to bare skin. Makoto’s insides trembled like he was ice cold.

“Please, sir,” he begged ruefully, pain in his voice.

“Ah, ah, ahh,” mocked Kai, and Makoto amended his words. “Please, Kai...”

A hand gripped his chin suddenly and Kai twisted Makoto to face him, green eyes stuttering wide open. Fierce blue eyes stared back, and Makoto’s blood went first ice cold and then blazingly hot as Kai slowly dissected him with one look. The man’s confidence was shaking Makoto’s principles.

“Tell me, Makoto,” he began, slowly, taking his time to stress his message. “That you don’t like my gifts. I’ve been spending a lot of money on them, and you keep turning them down. Don’t you think that hurts a man’s pride?”

Makoto’s head jerked up and down, answering before he knew he had even processed Kai’s words. His lower lips trembled; a thumb brushed over it.

“Darling, you’re so pretty when you smile. Smile for me. Tell me you like my gifts.”  
Makoto’s jaw ached from Kai’s grip on him, and he tried to pull away, but the hand released him and instead caught the back of his head. Now there was nothing between them, and he was hit full-on with Kai’s handsome face and his smile. Makoto’s resilience crumbled, and he slowly nodded his head. He tried out a smile.

Kai laughed, tossing his head back at Makoto’s attempt. “Fuck, that looks horrid, Makoto. Don’t smile if you’re forcing it like that.” His face sobered and he went back to staring fiercely. “I can make you smile for real.”

Makoto’s whole brain went into warning mode, level ten danger warning signs going off, but just as quickly as it started, it all went silent and still in his head. For the first time in a very long time, Makoto’s brain emptied.

Kai was kissing him, forcefully, almost painfully, but Makoto’s head was silent. He shut his eyes and savored the moment, the kiss a quiet afterthought that didn’t process aside from Makoto’s natural reflexes to return it. Kai pulled back with a pleasant laugh on his lips, chuckling as he rubbed Makoto’s cheek.

“Be a good boy and go out with me already, darling,” Kai whispered to Makoto as his fingers clenched together, strands of Makoto’s hair between them pulling ever so slightly. Makoto stared wide-eyed and blank over Kai’s shoulder at the wall behind the booth. A framed magazine hung there, a photo on the cover of a famous stripper who’d once worked this club dancing on the pole. Makoto’s brain couldn’t even make sense of the words on the page as it struggled to click back into working mode. He could feel Kai holding him by the back of the head, his head tilted painfully up over Kai’s shoulder, but everything felt distant and numb.

But there was something, something there that Makoto had missed. How long had it been since someone had kissed him? Ten months now, was it? Makoto stroked softly at his thigh, thin now. He’d been so muscular before; he’d worked his body so hard before. He wondered mildly what had been the point. The warm body against his distracted him for a moment from the pain of his heart breaking over and over again.

“Yeah,” he whispered slowly to the air.

Kai pulled him back and grinned. “Ohh, sweetheart, was that a yes for me?”

Makoto blinked, slowly shook his head as it turned to look at the roses sitting so obnoxiously on the table. The rest of the table was empty and Makoto slowly stood and mumbled, “I’ll go get your drink, Kai.”

He rubbed over the spot where Kai’s hot hand had rested on his shoulder, unaware that Nagisa had watched it all happen.

x

Nagisa was quiet as they packed up their bags for the night, heading out. Makoto waited until they were the only two left in the room before he looked up from his locker and stared over at the blond.

“Nagisa,” he whispered.

Pink eyes darted up, Nagisa regarding him quietly. Makoto tried for a smile.

“What happened to you?” he asked like it was a joke, laughing too, but it wasn’t funny, and his laughter fell away awkwardly. Makoto’s eyes dropped down to the floor again and he fiddled with his lock.

“I miss you, Nagisa. You haven’t said anything to me for a while now-“ Makoto bit back his tears, braved a look up. He was shocked to see the blond looking away with guilt written all over his face. “What did you do?” yelped Makoto in panic before he clenched his lips together. His hand shook.

“Nagisa, I’m doing okay, I swea-“

“You’re not okay! Don’t lie to me!” The other yelled out, pink eyes flying up again, anger on Nagisa’s sweet face.

Makoto grabbed his bag and turned away; he couldn’t see that look on his friend’s face, to know he’d disappointed the other. “I’m fine!” He rushed out of the room, Nagisa just behind him, following silently.

“What-“ choked out Makoto as he halted to a harsh stop just outside the side door of the club. Nagisa smoothly shifted around him and came to a stop just ahead of the brunet, back to him. So this was why he’d been acting so strange, probably guilt-ridden, and Makoto was almost tired enough to cruelly think he deserved it. He banished the thought instantly as it caused him physical pain to think it. Still, the sight before him nearly broke him.

“He’s been asking about you non-stop, Makoto, and I didn’t think you were doing fine, like you claim. You’re a terrible liar, after all.”

He turned, looking Makoto over with this sort of broken expression like he wished Makoto hadn’t lied for so, so long, and Makoto felt shame and guilt rush over him like heat. His cheeks flushed.

“It’s okay to admit you’re not doing well, you know,” Nagisa whispered just as Rei came up beside him and cupped his elbow to lead him off.

The figure leaning against the wall stood up, and now it was just the two of them. Makoto’s eyes dropped to his feet.

“You didn’t have to com-“

“Of course I did,” said Haru fiercely.

Makoto broke, a sob ripping from his chest, and Haru caught him. He wasn’t okay, so far from it, and god, he’d really missed his best friend.

“I’ll take you home,” said Haru softly, his voice as it always was, lacking emotion even though Makoto was convinced sometimes he felt more intensely than anyone else. But Haru was stoic and strong to the end, a pillar for someone as weak as Makoto even when he didn’t want to admit he needed it. Makoto clung to Haru’s jacket even as he nodded into his shoulder.

“Okay,” he whispered brokenly. He pulled himself together and walked quietly behind Haru. Even Haru seemed bigger than him now. He was still taller, but he was almost as skinny now as Haru. Haru was probably still fit under his jacket, though.

Makoto’s hands trembled as he unlocked his front door, Haru watching him silently. Inside, they quietly slipped off their shoes, Haru making himself at home; he didn’t need a formal invite inside from Makoto, not after nineteen years of friendship.

A bell tinkled and a ball of orange fluff rounded the corner. Makoto watched as Haru quietly sank down to a knee and rubbed the head of the regal cat that appeared like they’d been friends for years. Peanut Butter sat her butt down and closed her eyes as Haru pet him. When the other stood, bright eyes turned to Makoto and regarded him quietly.

“I’m home, Peanut,” he said as he always did, and the cat trotted over to greet her master, her dad. Makoto sank to floor and scooped the ball of orange fluff up to his face. Peanut Butter gave no protest; the cat was kind and sweet to Makoto when he’d shut himself off and needed it the most. Makoto hadn’t been looking for a cat to feed, but he could still clearly remember the feeling like lightning, walking past the small pet store in town and catching sight out of the corner of his eye of this little beauty, smaller then than she was now. It was love at first sight, a fateful meeting for a cat who needed a home and a man who couldn’t admit he was lonely and broken. Makoto walked the cat to his short dining room table and sank down under the blanket of his kotatsu. He curled around his cat and cried for a long, long time. Haru was silent, doing god-knows-what. When Makoto quieted down, a plate of hot fish and rice was set before him and Haru took a seat without asking a single question. Peanut shifted into Haru’s lap as Makoto slowly sat up, as he ate silently, gratefully. Haru silently petted Peanut’s wild fur.

It wasn’t until Makoto had eaten everything on his plate, under Haru’s watchful eye, that the black haired male spoke, voice quiet and as flat as always. “Nagisa is right. It’s okay to not be okay. And don’t blame him for me showing up. I know you needed to see me, and I-“ Haru took a slow breath, petting Peanut Butter again. “And I needed to see you.”

Blue eyes looked up at Makoto and Haru said plainly, “You’re not okay, Makoto.”

Makoto’s eyes fell to his lap, to the blanket over it. He hadn’t even turned on the heater underneath, but the weight of the blanket over his thighs was enough for now. It wasn’t cold outside yet, but Makoto had been getting cold more easily lately. 

“Yeah,” he said softly to his best friend, his fingers curling into the fabric of his blanketed kotatsu. “I’m not doing okay. But I’m trying.”

Haru’s hands lifted to the table top. “I gave you your space. You deserved to have it, but enough is enough. Now what you need is to find your happiness again, and someone to look after you while you do.”

“Haru, you don’t have to-“

“Yes, I do. It has to be me. And I want to.” Their eyes looked up at the same time and locked on each other. Makoto couldn’t explain his conflicting emotions. He could apologize for taking so long, but he was tired. He could smile, but Haru wouldn’t believe that for a second. He could try to say he was okay, but he didn’t need to lie to Haru. He didn’t need to _try_ around Haru, and maybe he’d missed that most of all, the thing he’d never really utilized to its full benefit, because he was so determined to not be a burden. But Haru had never seen him as a burden, or so he always said. Makoto had a hard time letting it be true. He wanted to be a good friend, and good friends were strong, took care of each other. Makoto could take care of others until he rotted away, but the thought of others taking care of him tore his tender soul to pieces, and Haru found this to be the one and most frustrating thing about Makoto.

He reached over now and flicked Makoto’s forehead, eyes jumping up big and wide.  
“You need to eat more,” Haru told him, a shift from something heavy in the air that Makoto wasn’t ready to face.

“I’m trying.”

“You’re wasting away.”

“It hurts sometimes to- to eat food. It’s easier to skip.” Haru was quiet again, petting Peanut.

“You need to eat,” was all he said as his conclusion, stubborn in a very strange, unique way. Makoto’s lips lifted into the smallest smile, and he’d forgotten how good it felt, how much joy it brought him to smile.

“I’ll try,” he said softly, his hands aching for something warm to hold, but Peanut was still in Haru’s lap. Quietly, like the cat could sense Makoto’s distress, she shifted back to her owner’s lap. The time passed quietly between them, until Haru stood. They didn’t say goodbye, they never had. Haru pressed his hand to Makoto’s forehead and quietly rested his cheek for a moment to the crown of Makoto’s head. And then he was gone, and Makoto was alone again.

His apartment felt emptier and quieter than it had in months, and Makoto tucked himself into bed with an achy heart.

x

The club was loud and packed. It was a Saturday night, and Makoto had made it two hours into his shift so far without a single sight of Kai. He was strangely unsure if he was happy about it or a little bit sad. He didn’t have time to think about that though; there were customers to attend to.

Makoto hustled with a tray full of drinks on his shoulder to a big table of rowdy men. His heels clacked over linoleum, and he was feeling pretty good today, though most of that might have been thanks to the shot of tequila before his shift and the empty stomach it had hit. His blood was coasting with adrenaline. He laughed at terrible jokes.

“Here’s your drinks!” he called to a loud cheer from the table. Loud music pounded over the speakers, and on the stage, Nagisa was really showing off. Most eyes were glued to him as he showed the pole who was the boss. Makoto loved Nagisa’s dancing, and he would watch if it was slow, but today, he had to ignore the other to focus on his own job.

He leaned down on a knee to shift the tray from his shoulder to the table, standing again to hand out drinks. He didn’t even notice the hand on his ass until the man beside him squeezed down. Makoto yelped and whipped his head around, the man grinning drunkenly up at Makoto.

“You have a nice ass,” he said with a slur, a goofy grin on his face. Makoto would have smacked the hand away immediately if it didn’t look like the man couldn’t hurt a fly in his current state. He just let out a short laugh and sashayed off again with his empty tray. A sloppy whistle followed him out.

As soon as he made eye contact with Rei, he rolled his eyes, and Kisumi slid up to him at the bar.

“You okay, love?” the stripper asked as he leaned against Makoto’s shoulder. The brunet gave him a smile.

“They’re harmless. Thank you though.”

“All right, you tell me if that changes,” Kisumi said with a smile and a wink. He patted Makoto’s ass and reminded him, “This ass belongs only to us.”

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom for a second,” Makoto told Rei and Kisumi, handing off his apron and tray to the bartender.

The bathroom was empty, save for one person who walked out as Makoto walked in. He let out a long sigh as he slipped into a stall and took a moment to sit himself down. He buried his face in his hands and sighed again. He was so tired, physically and mentally, and every day was slowly getting harder and harder than the last. He’d hoped things would get easier with time, but time wasn’t kind to him. He wasn’t kind to himself either, but he was trying his best.

He zipped his shorts up again, adjusting his shirt before stepping out into the bathroom. He didn’t even have time to lift his head. A heavy body slammed into him, and he was hauled backwards, back into the tiny stall, but this time he was not alone, and it was very crowded.

“Hey!” he yelled, ready to scold a drunk man, but then he looked at the man’s face, at his eyes, and fear chilled him to the bone. “Hey...” he whispered a little slower, quieter. He raised his hands slowly, mind racing for an exit out of this situation. The quietest man in the large group from before currently had Makoto cornered in a tiny bathroom stall; he was unfortunately also the largest of the bunch. The look in his eyes was very lucid, highly focused; he was on a mission. Makoto was in trouble.

The man calmly turned and shut the door behind him, locked it. When he turned back to Makoto, he grabbed at his thin arm with a grip that could easily snap it in half, and Makoto truly panicked. His heart pounded in his chest a mile a minute, and very slowly he saw his chances for escape dwindling down to zero. He couldn’t overpower the man, couldn’t even get around him. He was pressed up against the bowl of the toilet and the man had an iron grip on him.

Makoto tried to think of something to diffuse the situation, but his vision was narrowing and his mind was foggy, so he just begged, “Please, please don’t do this.”

The man’s mouth split open very suddenly and he grinned wide and disgusting at Makoto’s face, teeth stained by tobacco, his beard messy and frizzy, his eyes wild. Makoto was in deep, deep trouble. Nine months ago, hell, even six months ago he could have taken this guy out no problem, but now all he had was his height and his heels to defend him, and he couldn’t easily get his shoes off in the small space. His mind raced through his options, all coming up null or impossible. He froze.

Hands touched him and he couldn’t even scream. Buttons popped off his shirt and it fell away from his shoulders, his shorts zipped open and yanked down. There was a sharp inhale at the sight of his underwear and Makoto wanted to scream, to cry, but he couldn’t open his mouth to make a single sound. He shut his eyes and dropped down to the toilet, curling up and grabbing desperately at his shoes as hands tugged his shirt up, tried to pull at his hair to get his head back up. The man was unzipping his own pants and Makoto was just begging his shoe to get into his hand so he could stab this man in his dick.

“Makoto!”

Suddenly the man before him was gone, snatched away like he was nothing but a piece of trash on the floor, and someone else was filling up the small space in the stall. Finally Makoto found his voice and he screamed at the top of his lungs. There was a rush of wind and then something warm and soft settled over Makoto’s naked shoulders. He went instantly silent. Before him stood Kai, looking down at him for a moment, then turning back to the man now on the floor. He caught sight of Kai and suddenly he was scrambling back, fear in _his_ eyes as he begged Kai to forgive him. There was the sickening crush of a fist to a face and Makoto shut his eyes sharply. He felt sick; the tequila was suddenly turning sour in his stomach. He grabbed desperately for the small trash can by the toilet and puked his boiling stomach contents out. It was pure acid and alcohol, and his eyes burned as he gagged at the smell and taste. He dry heaved as the sickening sounds of clenched fist punching fleshy face continued on. Makoto abhorred fighting with every single fiber in his being, but he’d just almost been raped, and he couldn’t find himself to care that his would-be rapist was getting beaten to a pulp by a man twice his size and weight class.

Silence finally fell and big arms scooped a tiny Makoto up, trash can and all, and carried him out, leaving behind the bloodied mess of a beaten man. Makoto just tucked his head down, shutting his eyes. The world swam as he was carried, his brain feeling like it was a small boat on a choppy ocean. He dry-heaved some more, but nothing came. He didn’t even register he was in the break room when he was set down.

Kai just stood before him like some kind of savior, and he was, but Makoto wasn’t ready to gush out his thankfulness. All he could manage was a wobbly, “Thanks.”

But Kai was silent, too silent, and Makoto braved a look up at his face. _Oh._

Clenched fists, face red: Kai looked like a kettle about to blow, and not in a good way. Makoto pushed himself back and raised his hands, forgetting the trash can in his arms as it clattered to the floor. His fingers trembled, eyes catching on them, so thin and fragile now. They could so easily be broken. He jerked back as Kai reached for them, but he just held them as he pulled Makoto against his stomach.

 _Oh._ This was... nice. Kai was so strong; his stomach hard with muscles that Makoto had once had himself. Kai’s jacket over his shoulders was slowly warming him up, too, and it was big, so big on him, and suddenly Makoto was so, so lonely. He clung to Kai.

“If the offer still stands,” he whispered with his eyes shut tight. “I’d like to say yes to that question you’ve been asking me.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected, fan fare, or a smug response, but he just got a big hand on top of his head and a long-suffering sigh.

“I’ll never let anyone touch you ever again. I’ll break every bone of anyone who tries.”  
Kai’s words should have sent warning bells ringing in Makoto’s head, but he just smiled like a dope against Kai’s abs.

“Go wash your mouth out,” Kai told him, and Makoto was so happy, so high that he nodded, grinning like a fool as he stumbled to his locker to fish out his small bottle of mouthwash. The bathroom was a no-go so he used the trash can he’d brought with him to rinse and spit. He’d barely closed the mouthwash bottle before strong arms were pulling him up and he was pulled roughly into a wild kiss.

Oh, he’d missed this. Had he ever even been kissed like this? He couldn’t remember; his mind was being washed clean. Blissful was the silence and empty mind that came with the kiss. Makoto let himself get lost in it.

He could be happy, he told himself. It never even occurred to him that maybe this was a bad decision to make in the aftermath of what had just happened, but Makoto needed something desperately to anchor him, and Kai felt like... it.

He should be happy. Had to be. Would be... eventually. Right?


	3. What Matters is That You’re Here

Makoto smiled at his best friend as Haru stared him down like he was trying to analyze the other’s whole life.

“Thank you for bringing me lunch again, though I keep telling you it’s not necessary.”

Haru frowned, stared down at the barely touched bento he’d brought over for Makoto. They sat together in the break room at the club, Makoto picking at the food here and there, but he left most of it uneaten. Makoto smiled again, trying to clear away the worry he saw in Haru’s face.

“It’s yummy. I’m just never very hungry around this time.”

Makoto’s smile slipped for a moment; he knew Haru didn’t believe him for a second, but finally his best friend just sighed and packed up the rest of the lunch box, setting it to the side with his jacket. “What time do you get off?”

“You don’t have to come pick me up every night, Haru.”

Blue eyes blinked up in surprise at the sudden change in tone of voice, but Makoto was still smiling. Haru frowned. “I like to walk you home.”

“It’s too much.”

Haru’s whole expression shifted to incredulity. Makoto fidgeted nervously with his fingers under the table; he wasn’t trying to tell Haru yet that the reason he didn’t want Haru to come was because lately Kai had insisted on taking him home, and he wasn’t ready to admit to Haru yet that he was dating someone who looked so much like Sousuke. He knew exactly the look Haru would give him, and he wanted to revel in the happiness for a little bit longer. He smiled again to dissuade Haru.

“Really, Haru. You have practices you need to get up early for. It’s best if you get your rest.”

The fact that Haru was going after his dream, their dream, to be an Olympic swimmer made Makoto’s heart sing like nothing else. He himself had given up that dream rather selfishly, but Haru had never once wavered from the goal. He worked hard; Olympic swimming wasn’t anything like what they’d done in high school, racing against other 17 year old kids. Makoto had gone to see one of Haru’s practice matches and he’d cried sitting in the stands as he watched Haru get third place. Haru, who was also stricken with his loss, had needed to console Makoto instead.

Haru silently let the subject go, and Makoto gave another smile. He slid his hand across the table and Haru easily took it in his own, Makoto rubbing his thumb soothingly over Haru’s palm as they’d always done. It had been a while, too long, and Haru’s eyes went a little wide at the gesture.

“It’s been a long time,” he whispered quietly. Makoto nodded; his heart had been so heavy that he hadn’t had the energy to do the extra little things for others, but he was starting to feel better, lighter, happier. He smiled at Haru.

“On my next day off, why don’t you come over and I’ll cook a little something for you to say thank you?”

Haru opened his mouth, maybe to object, but finally he just nodded. “Okay.”

A glance at the clock told Makoto he had to head back to work, and Haru stood solemnly, gathering his still-full bento and his jacket. There was a pause, and Haru suddenly whirled around and awkwardly grabbed Makoto up in a hug. Makoto let out a laugh of surprise and hugged Haru back. The dark haired male hardly ever initiated contact, and it made Makoto happy. Haru ended it just as abruptly as it had started, and then he turned away to leave without another word. He glanced at Makoto one last time as he walked out, Makoto waving and smiling, thanking Haru again, reminding him to get some sleep. Haru’s face was unreadable.

The hours passed quickly; an hour before closing, Kai walked through the door, and Makoto felt his heart soar a little. Icy blue eyes found him instantly, and Makoto smiled wide as he rushed over.

“Hello, darling,” Kai said with a crooked smile. Makoto looked up at him, smiled a little bigger. A hand gripped his chin, and Kai kissed him fiercely. Was it a short kiss? Kai pulled back and lingered a few inches from Makoto’s face. When he spoke again, his voice was suddenly cold, and it made Makoto’s blood run icy. “New cologne?”

“No? Why, do I smell?”

Kai stood up, his face now pinched and cast in shadows. He stared down at Makoto. “Don’t go around letting other men be so friendly to you.”

“Wha-?” Makoto gasped out, confused. He turned his nose to his shoulder and sniffed. Was it because Haru had hugged him earlier? Was that what his boyfriend was smelling? He turned to give a laugh, but it got stuck halfway. “It was just Haru,” Makoto tried for light-heartedness. Kai turned and stalked to his regular booth.

“Get me a drink, Makoto,” he said without even a glance back. Makoto stood frozen still by the sudden change. Loneliness crept into his heart, and he turned on his heel to run to the bar.

“Rei, Kai’s here,” was all he said, and Rei silently set about making a scotch on the rocks.

When Makoto slid it across the table and himself into Kai’s booth, he whispered with a small smile, “This one’s on me, Kai.” A warm arm settled around his shoulders, Kai huffing as he lifted his drink and drank it all down in one go.

“Don’t make me upset like that, Makoto,” the other man warned before turning his eyes down to the brunet. Makoto nodded with a shiver down his spine. A finger lifted his chin. “What do you say?”

“Yes, Kai.”

“Good,” grinned the taller man, suddenly smiling again, the shadows lifting off his face, and he was once again the Kai Makoto had come to know. He tilted Makoto’s face up again and this time the kiss was longer, fiercer. Makoto let himself get lost in it, until an urgent tapping sounded a few inches away. Makoto glanced over in surprise to find Nagisa standing there, eyes bugging out and his lips twisted in a fierce frown.

“Boss’s here, Makoto,” he said as he stared Kai down. It should have been comical if it wasn’t for the death glare Kai gave back. Makoto awkwardly shifted out of Kai’s arm and the booth. He turned as Nagisa walked off and smiled a reassuring thing, though he wasn’t quite sure why he needed to be.

“I’ll be back later, Kai. I’ll get you another drink, too.”

Kai didn’t say a word as Makoto walked off, but Makoto could feel his eyes watching him go. It had only been a few weeks, but Kai’s attitude sometimes unnerved Makoto. It made his stomach drop and get queasy, but Kai would just shrug his concerns off and tell him to just watch who he spent time with. Makoto found it puzzling; he was around the same people as before. He wasn’t any friendlier with them; he only had a few friends anyways. Was it because he was smiling more?

Makoto shook his head, followed Nagisa to the bar. Though he was out of sight, the tiny blond was still posturing and staring daggers at the area Kai was in. Makoto frowned, eyes wide. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like him, Makoto,” was all Nagisa said, but he leveled his pink eyes to his friend. Makoto shivered, tried for a reassuring smile.

“He’s sweet, I swear.” He waved his hands, smiled a little wider. “He makes me happy!” The words tasted bittersweet on his tongue. Well, it wasn’t a lie; he was happier.

Nagisa waved the other off, though his expression told Makoto he was hurt, that he hated to be so dismissive of the other. “Just watch yourself at work. The boss will fire you in a second if he sees you canoodling with a customer.”

Makoto stood up straighter and nodded, gratitude flooding his heart. He’d nearly forgotten. “Of course! Thank you, Nagisa!”

Nagisa tossed him another confused smile. “Sure,” he said in an unsure tone.

Makoto turned to Rei and smiled wide, happiness making his heart beat a little faster. “Another scotch on the rocks, please.”

He took it back to Kai, moving around to take last minute orders as the club slowly wound down, Rei cleaning the bar and the strippers going back to change in the locker room. Kai’s eyes never left Makoto, and he watched with a fiery intensity as he chatted with other customers, took orders with smiles. Since that incident in the bathroom, the big group hadn’t come back, but it seemed Kai still sized up everyone who came through the door. He was only worried about Makoto, the brunet told himself with a smile. He was looking out for him.

Makoto pulled on his jacket, the smile that had been stuck on his lips for a while now still there, and he rushed out the door with a goodbye tossed over his shoulder. Just outside the back door stood Kai, looking so tall and handsome as he leaned against the wall. The moment the door opened, Kai looked over, and he slowly pulled himself up as Makoto ran out.

“I’m done,” Makoto greeted with a smile. Kai gave a nod as he collected Makoto into his arms, his hug tight enough to squeeze the air out of Makoto’s lungs, but he was happy. Kai turned and headed out, Makoto following obediently behind. He stared at Kai’s empty hand, reminded of-

“What, you want to hold my hand?” asked Kai with a smirk.

“Wha-?”

“You’ve been staring a hole into my hand.”

Makoto blinked up wide at his boyfriend, but slowly he nodded as his face melted into a big smile. “Yes!”

“Come on. I’ll let you.” Kai held a big hand out, and Makoto grabbed it with two of his own. His hands felt frail and small in Kai’s grip. He jogged up beside Kai and nuzzled his cheek against the man’s beefy arm.

When he turned down a different road than the way home, Makoto blinked up at him. “Where are we going?”

Blue eyes shifted down to Makoto, Kai silent for a moment like Makoto should know. “It’s been two weeks, Makoto. Don’t you think it’s about time?”

Makoto shook his head in confusion, not sure what Kai was referring to. Time for what?

“I’m taking you to my house,” Kai told him as his hand tightened on Makoto’s. Makoto blinked down at the concrete in surprise.

“Okay?” he whispered in confusion. It wasn’t like he was opposed to going to Kai’s, but he was tired, and he really just wanted to go home and go to bed. But, well, he and Kai didn’t get a lot of time together, he supposed.

“But don’t you have practice early tomorrow?”

“Yeah, which is why you’re coming home with me.” Kai’s tone ended the conversation there, even though Makoto had more questions now. He wondered if he was a bother for the other. Kai had his own early morning commitments, and yet he walked Makoto home every night from the club. Makoto didn’t lift his eyes from the ground as they made their way to Kai’s place.

Tumblers turned, and Kai opened his door with a little grunt of frustration. Makoto felt the sound in his heart, like a knife to his chest. Worry had become a demon digging its cold claws into him, leaning over him with its massive body. He couldn’t even react or process when he was slammed against the wall and Kai’s lips found his, hungry, almost angry.

Jackets were tossed and Makoto’s clothes were torn, and he couldn’t even say a word. A big hand gripped tightly into his hair when Kai pulled back. He was smiling something awful and lecherous. Makoto blinked back tears.

“It’s time. You’ve made me wait a long time, Makoto.” The brunet shivered, nodded meekly; he was starting to understand. When he was shoved down to his knees, he understood very clearly. Well, of course Kai would want to have sex; he’d been stupid to not realize it or offer it before. Tears stung his eyes as he opened his lips slowly for Kai’s cock. _Oh, he’s big_ , was Makoto’s panicking thought just before Kai pulled Makoto’s nose to his pelvis. The thick thing slid until it jammed in the back of Makoto’s throat and he choked out a cry in terror.

“Oh, shh,” said Kai with a breathless laugh, like he was mocking Makoto, but he petted his cheek tenderly. His eyes watched Makoto from above, and he smiled. Makoto clenched his fists and forced himself to relax, humming out a trembling sound, trying to smile himself. Kai deserved this, so he would do his best.

Makoto’s throat was worked raw, and his jaw was numb within seconds. Kai was so big and heavy against his tongue, but he really tried his best. He’d never once given Sousuke a blow job; this was his first, and he didn’t understand the mechanics behind making it good. He didn’t know how to feel about it, but his own feelings were pushed aside in favor of how Kai was feeling. And when the man started letting his head drop back, little groans of appreciation to Makoto, his heart leapt. He tried a little harder; Kai grunted when he did something bad, huffed out hot air when it was good. Makoto was learning how to please his man.

There was a shuddering sigh above Makoto, and he was pulled away, lips and chin sloppy wet, jaw aching. Kai pulled him up and stared at the state of him, grinning wide.

“Liked it?” he asked like it wasn’t even a question to him. Of course Makoto had liked it, Kai’s smile said. Makoto still gave a nod, lips trembling up into the best smile he could manage.

Kai leaned in and pressed Makoto back to the wall. His breath was hot across Makoto’s ear, and he was heavy against his chest, but it was comforting in a way. “We’re not done,” Kai told him, and Makoto gave a weak mewl. Strong arms hefted him up by the ass and he clung to Kai as the man easily carried him to the back of the apartment, to a bedroom. Makoto’s heart was pounding, and he wasn’t sure if he was excited or terrified.

“Be gentle,” he whimpered. His last experience with sex hadn’t been kind, and he still remembered that greasy man’s hands on him. Kai just laughed.

“Sure, baby doll.”

Makoto was dropped to his knees, his lace panties yanked aside. Big hands grabbed and played with his ass cheeks, and he gave a wobbly smile to the sheets. Sinking his face down, it smelled so strongly of Kai. His own cock jerked in reaction, and he gave a tiny wiggle of his hips.

“I’m coming,” huffed Kai with a laugh at Makoto’s movement. “Don’t you worry.”

Two seconds later, slick fingers forced their way inside Makoto’s ass and he jerked, eyes going wide, throat closing on a cry of pain. Kai roughly prepped him, nevermind the fact that it had been more than ten months since Makoto had last had sex. It had been with Sousuke, and the memory was bitter. He shut his eyes to try to keep it out; he wasn’t sure whether he was thankful or disappointed when the pain knocked every conscious thought out of his head. Kai grunted as he forced himself inside Makoto. He was too big, too big. Makoto’s cry choked in his throat, and he sobbed into the sheets. Kai’s smell surrounded him, Kai’s heat and heavy body over him. A soft grunt hit his ears and Makoto’s heart flew out of his chest. He could endure the pain, he told himself; Kai was enjoying him. That was all that mattered.

Makoto smiled into the sheets, letting Kai’s little sounds wash over him. His whole body shook with the pain, as it was tearing him apart, and he barely clung to consciousness. But Kai was feeling good, so Makoto should try harder, try to be better. He pressed his hips back on one thrust, and the pain made his mind go white, but Kai let out the most beautiful little sound. Makoto fisted at the sheets beneath him. Something hot trickled down his thigh, but everything was lost in Kai’s hot hands on his hips, on Kai’s breath against his neck. Kai was warming his frozen body, was chasing away the chills. 

Finally the pain became an afterthought as Makoto’s mind desperately tried to grasp at the good in it. Kai hit his prostate and Makoto’s back arched violently, as he cried and came over the sheets. Kai gave one final grunt and released inside Makoto, collapsing to the bed with a sigh of relief. Makoto was frozen in place, any movement bringing back the pain, and he felt sick. He waited for Kai to help him to the bathroom, but soon soft snoring filled the room and Makoto’s body washed cold. 

He bit his lip as tears came, as he tried very gingerly to move. Slowly, he waddled himself in search of a bathroom, luckily finding it just off the bedroom. He wanted a bath, but he was scared to draw it, scared to even look for a washcloth to use, so he sat down on the toilet and sobbed quietly as Kai’s cum slid from his torn ass. He couldn’t even wipe, the pain was so great. In the toilet bowl swam a mix of blood and gooey cum. Makoto felt violently sick, and he shut his skinny legs on the sight. He cupped water from the sink and slowly washed himself on the toilet, afraid to touch his ass, to clean properly. Sousuke had worn a condom, but Makoto knew enough to know he had to clean himself out. But he couldn’t; he really couldn’t. He slid up his underwear again and crawled into bed with Kai, into his arms. This wasn’t how Makoto had wanted it to go, but Kai had sounded happy, and he’d been able to cum. Makoto had been good, hadn’t he? He clenched his eyes to keep in fresh tears and fell into a fitful sleep. When he awoke in the afternoon, Kai was long gone, no note, nothing. Makoto walked home with a heaviness in his soul.

x

“There’s another practice meet tomorrow,” Haru said calmly as he watched Makoto over the edge of his cup. It was rare to find Haru actually sitting inside Makoto’s place of work, let alone to find him drinking, but Rei assured him it was just water in a fancy glass and one of those balls of ice. It reminded him of Kai, and he pushed the thought from his mind. He wasn’t sure why the thought of Haru and Kai together bothered him so much.

Still, Makoto smiled at his friend. He knew by now what Haru was asking, and lately he’d been feeling better. He thought he could go again for the first time in a long while; the sound of water splashing in a pool and that special echo didn’t make his heart hurt anymore. Plus, he was itching for something familiar, something that felt like doing good.

“Of course I’ll be there, Haru,” Makoto said sweetly to his best friend, pulling Haru into a side hug. Haru still wasn’t used to it, even after fifteen plus years of Makoto hug-tackling him, and it always made Makoto laugh. This time, he was surprised when Haru slid an arm around his waist and hugged him back. His words, however, made his heart drop.

“You’re skinnier again.”

Makoto’s mouth fell open with an excuse to say, but nothing came out. He was eating... wasn’t he? It felt like nothing had changed, but Makoto had noticed that his clothes were starting to get baggy again. He pulled himself together and smiled at Haru, trying to lighten the other’s intense mood.

“I’m eating! I’m just running around a lot more now; it’s been busy lately.” It was a lie; the club was always busy, but Haru wouldn’t know it since he rarely came in. Doubt still crossed Haru’s face, but he seemed to let it go as he looked back down to his water glass.

“It’s at 2.”

“Huh?” asked Makoto, mind still stuck on Haru’s last comment about his weight. He pulled self-consciously at his shirt. It _was_ a little looser on him now.

“The meet is at 2.”

“Okay,” smiled Makoto wide, dropping his cheek to the top of Haru’s head. “I’ll be there.” 

“And eat something, for god’s sake,” grumbled Haru.

Makoto felt like such a burden sometimes.

x

It was all rushing back; Makoto stepped into the large aquatic center, a wall of dense, warm, wet air hitting him, and it felt like a long-awaited hug. He inhaled deeply, the scent of chlorine making him feel alive again. He shut his eyes and took it in, the echoing voices, the heavy air, the feeling that this was where he belonged. He’d felt like that for eighteen years, but the moment Sousuke had left, Makoto had found no joy in swimming, or even in being in places like this, or near a pool at all. Everything had been so deeply linked to his memories of Sousuke back then, but the pain was a little less now. For better or for worse, he knew it was Kai that was helping him.

“You just gonna stand there all day like a goof?”

An unfamiliar voice called out to Makoto, startling him out of his thoughts. A tall man in a white and red track jacket and matching tear-away pants stood a few feet away, watching Makoto with an amused look on his face. In his hand was a clipboard, and around his neck was a stopwatch and whistle. He looked too official to be just another swimmer.

“Yeah,” choked out Makoto, not really even remembering the question. The man had his bright red hair combed back, and he was smiling genuinely, his whole face lit up, golden eyes shining. His voice was nice and deep too. The man laughed, and then Makoto remembered with wild embarrassment what he’d asked. “I mean, no! I wasn’t planning on it...!”

“I’m guessing from the lack of gym bag that you’re not a swimmer, so who are you here for?” 

“Ah, Nanase Haru...ka.”

“Haru, huh? You know how to pick ‘em,” the man said with a grin, tapping his clipboard with a pen. “He’s got really good times.”

“Really?” whispered Makoto in surprised delight, like he didn’t already know Haru would do amazing. But it really had been a long time; he didn’t even know Haru’s average time for a full lap anymore. He used to have all of those numbers memorized, as he’d always be the one with the stopwatch to time Haru after club hours.

The man tossed his head back and laughed. “Why so shocked? Have you ever been to one of his practices?”

Makoto’s whole face fell, guilt overwhelming him very suddenly. “Ah,” he whispered into the moist air. “Just one...”

The man before him went suddenly quiet and serious too. He stepped forward, grabbed at Makoto’s shoulder. When green eyes looked up, he smiled. “I’m Seijuro. I’m sure Haru will be glad to see you’re here.”

After Makoto introduced himself, Seijuro smiled and added calmly, “The past doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here now.”

“Ah-“ said Makoto, but the man was already walking away, waving at Makoto as he laughed. “I’ll see you around. I like you, Makoto.”

Makoto’s face flushed red, but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t think the man was trying to hit on him. No, Seijuro seemed like a genuinely nice person. Makoto gathered himself and made his way to the main pool area.

Haru had made it sound like it wasn’t a huge deal, but the bleachers were packed, and around the pool stood so many people and coaches, so many different jerseys represented. Makoto blinked in wild confusion for a moment until he saw two familiar faces. Blue and red eyes stared at him over the crowd, and Haru raised a hand to give a single wave. He pointed up to the bleachers, and suddenly there was a loud yell that could only have come from one person.

“Haru, beat their butts!!”

Makoto turned with wide eyes to look up at Nagisa, Rei currently trying to hide from view behind his hands, embarrassed. Nagisa was leaning over the railing before him and waving two tiny flags in one hand, a pom-pom in the other with colors to match Haru’s jacket. Makoto should have expected nothing less. He laughed behind his hand and quietly made his way up into the stands. Nagisa looked almost odd in regular clothes, though that was still pushing it. He wore a bubble gum pink crop top and overalls, an iridescent jacket over top. Rei looked far more normal, almost comedically so, in a grey button up and navy pants. He adjusted his glasses as Makoto quietly sat down.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” whispered Rei in fierce mortification. Makoto laughed. Nagisa turned with wide eyes and waved his flags and pom-pom.

“You’re here!” he gasped in surprise. Makoto remembered now that Nagisa and Rei were faithful attendees of Haru’s meets, and now he felt a little ashamed that they’d always had to be there in his stead.

“I’m here,” he said resolutely, smiling apologetically.

Nagisa pulled a face and waved a pom-pom in Makoto’s face. “Don’t make that face at me. What counts is that you’re here now!”

“Everyone’s saying that today...” Makoto murmured quietly with eyes staring over the pool. He felt his heart twinge, and he realized for the first time in a very long time that he missed it, swimming. Back then, he would have given anything to be standing next to Rin and Haru down there. It made his heart ache with missed opportunities and a sorrow too great to express with words. Maybe he’d been wrong to think he could handle this.

But as he breathed in the wet, chlorine-scented air, he couldn’t help but feel relieved. He was here, he was okay. He was happy, even. When he’d quit swimming, he never thought he would be again. But he was. He was...

A newly familiar head of orange hair called everyone to order, voice ringing through the large room, and everyone stilled. Every team was assigned a lane, and all of the members of that team lined up behind the diving board. Rin and Haru stood with a few other men; Makoto’s heart squeezed again, and Nagisa reached over Rei’s lap to slip his small hand into Makoto’s with a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m sure they’re both happy you’re here.”

Makoto let out a long breath of air and he said truthfully, “I’m happy to be here.” A whistle sounded and the meet was underway.


	4. If You Love Him

“You did it,” Makoto said with a blinding smile on his face. He hadn’t smiled so wide in a long, long time. The air was punched out of his chest as a heavy body slammed against his own. Rin was sobbing before he’d even pulled Makoto into a hug.

“You damn idiot! Where have you been?? I’ve missed you!”

Makoto blinked in surprise, but then he lifted Rin up as much as he could and hugged him back. It wasn’t like it used to be, when he could haul Rin up nearly over his head as easy as breathing. He didn’t let Rin see the way his arms trembled from the effort now, but Haru noticed, quiet.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here, but I’m back.” Makoto’s voice grew heavy with emotions and he whispered, “You swam amazing, Rin. Haru...” He looked over Rin’s shoulder. Haru was the only one whose eyes were dry. Even Rei was wiping at his eyes, and Nagisa was blubbering and crying, too.

“Group hug!” yelled Nagisa, wrangling everyone in for an awkward hug that collapsed into laughter.

A tall figure walked over and slapped Haru on the back loud enough to be heard. Makoto looked up with wide eyes at Seijuro, who apparently was one of the assistant coaches for the Japan Olympic team. Apparently he’d been fantastic too back in his day, but his dream had always been coaching (Nagisa had filled Makoto in on all the details).

“Congrats, guys! Your numbers are looking great. Just keep at it and you’ll be all set for the qualifying meet next month.”

Makoto blinked at Haru in question, and the other actually gave a small smile. Makoto realized suddenly he’d missed so, so much. Next month, his best friends would be competing for a highly desired spot on the Japanese Olympic swimming team. With the Olympics practically right around the corner, suddenly the dream they’d all shared since they were kids seemed very real. Makoto felt tears coming before he could stop them. Rin was crying again too. Haru slipped to Makoto’s side and quietly took his best friend’s hand. They didn’t speak of missed moments or Makoto’s absence. Haru didn’t say anything about how Makoto should have been right there with them, swimming, fighting for a spot. 

Instead, he said softly, so only Makoto could hear, “We’ll do it for you. If we make the team, you’ll make it with us.”

It was more than Makoto deserved, or could bear to hear. He slipped down to the bench behind him and sobbed into his hands. So much had gone so very wrong, and he wondered why he’d given up what he’d always loved the most. He watched the day slip by, watched happiness and more tears fall from his friends’ eyes, watched as they slowly split off to go home or to work. At the end, Makoto found himself standing by the pool, looking out over the calm water and wondering what he’d missed. He jumped when a hand pressed to his back, head swiveling around, apology ready.

“You’re fine,” said Seijuro like he’d known Makoto had been about to apologize. He smiled at the smaller male.

“You know, you look at the water like you miss it.”

Makoto inhaled shakily and let out a laugh. It was funny how he didn’t even have to think about being honest with this man. “I do,” he responded simply. He turned to Seijuro and smiled sadly. “I miss it a lot.”

“You should come swim sometime. My pops runs this place, and I’m pretty much always here during off-season.”

Makoto’s heart soared, and he wondered if he even could swim again. He’d lost more than time and opportunities; he wondered if he’d lost the ability to swim, at least as powerfully as he had back then. He hugged his slim body.

“Think about it,” said Seijuro, no pressure as he patted Makoto’s back. “See you around, killer.”

The quietness that was unique to an aquatic center surrounded Makoto again and he let himself imagine being in the water again, swimming again. He felt he could do it; he wanted to try.

Haru would be happy to hear him say that. Rin would cry. 

x

“Let’s go on a date,” said Kai in a lascivious voice, and Makoto’s head turned around in surprise. He stared at Kai with wide eyes for a long while, trying to process what the other had even said. A date? Makoto had never... been on one...He’d almost forgotten it was a thing normal couples did; he and Sousuke had never been very normal. He’d never guessed Kai would be the normal boyfriend... Makoto pulled his lips in an effort up into a smile; he wasn’t sure why some days it was harder to do so than others. He’d been laughing just the other day with Haru and Rin.

Kai watched him, reading him. He leaned forward and pressed the pad of his index finger to the edge of Makoto’s lip, pushing it up a little. “Darling...” he murmured slowly, and Makoto’s eyes flitted up to his. Suddenly his heart sped up, as Kai smiled sweetly and said, “You look much more adorable when you smile for me.”

He leaned back, arm across the back of the sofa. “So how about a date so I can show my cute little lover off?”

“That would be... really fun.” Makoto felt a stir of excitement as he crept closer to Kai on the couch. Kai lifted his hand on the back of the couch to beckon him forward and allow room for Makoto, smiling as he tugged him roughly down into a sweet kiss, nicer than his usual ones, and Makoto forgot why he’d been unable to smile before. By the time they pulled apart, he was grinning wide. “A date,” he whispered in excitement.

“Wear something cute,” Kai said with a wicked grin, and Makoto trembled with anticipation. In his head, he was already planning out his outfit, but Kai said, “Wear that blue shirt I like. And those pants.”

Makoto knew exactly what Kai was talking about, and he turned red. He stuttered over words; the shirt Kai liked had shrunk in the dryer one day and was more of a “lounge around at home” shirt, due to how tight it was now, and the pants were a similar story. They weren’t outside clothes. Makoto kept them only because they were comfortable enough to still wear around the house. Technically they still fit him, but Makoto wasn’t fond of showing off the thinness of his body now.

“Or whatever you want...” Kai finally said with a edgy tone, his smile dangerous, and when Makoto looked at him, he knew it was those clothes or finding something ten times better. He nodded, gave a smile. He shouldn’t be upset because of the clothes; Kai was taking him on a date, after all. Kai was smiling at him, calling him cute.

“Tomorrow?” asked Kai, though it didn’t sound much like a question, and Makoto smiled. It was ironically his one day off this week. He wondered if Kai had known that when he’d planned this. That would have been thoughtful...

In the end, he ended up wearing the clothes Kai wanted him to. It wasn’t so bad, Makoto told himself as he tucked in the shirt and pulled a large, knitted cardigan over top. The sweater hid the way the pants hugged his ass, and the panties he’d chosen meant no panty lines, so he felt fairly safe now. He styled his hair back and brushed his teeth, then sat around with his cat until his phone chimed with a single text.

_Come downstairs now._

Makoto pulled on his ankle boots and bolted out the door with a kiss to Peanut, a small little pack strapped across his chest with his keys and phone and wallet inside. When he climbed into Kai’s sporty car, the man turned and looked him over.

“Why are you wearing the sweater?” the other asked by way of greeting, and Makoto tried to laugh it off. Had he made the wrong choice? He tugged at his sleeve, eyes downcast as he waited for the reprimand. The car shifted a little as Kai moved in his seat, and Makoto’s eyes clenched tight in an automatic response. But a warm hand slid across his chest and under his sweater, and Kai breathed hot into his ear, voice low and husky suddenly. Makoto shivered, an audible noise almost escaping at Kai’s hand on him. “Take it off, honey. Trust me, you look wonderful.”

Makoto pulled it off with his eyes shut, knowing Kai was so close and watching him, wondering what Kai saw when he looked at him. Makoto felt the material of the shirt and pants cling to his thin frame, and he knew Haru would fall dead with worry if he saw Makoto. He’d been able to hide it, but he was really starting to get thin. There were small shadows across the shirt where his ribs were, and his thighs were skinny. The only part of him that still held fat was his ass, and it looked almost ridiculous. But Makoto wasn’t hungry, so Makoto didn’t eat. He picked nervously at his nails, but Kai assuaged his fears with a hand caressing over his arm and a kiss to his cheek.

“Darling, you look beautiful. I can’t wait to show you off tonight.”

Reason fled Makoto as warmth rushed over him; the words he’d always wanted to hear, Kai said them so easily. Makoto wondered bitterly if Sousuke had ever even complimented him. He’d certainly never wanted to show him off. Makoto shook his head and pushed the thoughts aside as Kai started his car. Fingers slid between Makoto’s and he smiled at his boyfriend, happy when Kai smiled through the windshield. He could be happy; if Kai was happy, that was all that mattered anymore. Kai’s mood varied with the wind, but he undoubtedly loved Makoto.

The restaurant was nice and upscale, and again Makoto tried to shamefully slip his cardigan on, citing he was cold, but Kai yanked it off him and tossed it in his car, locking it in. He took Makoto’s wrist and pulled him roughly against his side, Makoto’s hands colliding against his solid chest, and he remembered the feeling of home. He smiled as Kai draped a big arm around him and hugged him close, unashamed. Makoto suddenly felt like a million bucks, on top of the world.

The waitress gave them a second glance, Kai grinning wide like he was loving this, and she led them to a table near the middle of the restaurant. There was no hiding himself here, and Makoto felt a little exposed, but Kai slid his chair closer, and his hand was warm on Makoto’s leg. He gripped Makoto’s bony knee.

“Can I get you some drinks?” the little lady asked as she pulled out her notepad, trying to bite back her smile at the two of them. 

“I’ll have a scotch on the rocks, and a bottle of your best Sauvignon Blanc for my boyfriend here.” 

Both Makoto and the girl went the same shade of red, but while the girl smiled happily, Makoto’s head was racing. He didn’t even like white wine, and he certainly wouldn’t be eating enough to finish a whole glass, let alone a bottle. He glanced at Kai, but the man was smiling down at his menu, squeezing Makoto’s knee a little tighter. If Makoto had words to say, the hand on his knee kept him silent. He smiled instead at the waitress. 

“A water, too, please,” he asked, and though Kai’s smile faltered for a second, he didn’t say a word. 

The alcohol was brought and poured, and Kai opened his mouth again before the poor waitress could even ask it they were ready. 

“I’ll have the wagyu beef steak, with boiled potatoes and spinach on the side, and the love of my life here will have the spinach Gomaae salad.” 

Makoto’s blood went first hot and then cold. “Ah, sir, the Gomaae salad is just a side-“

Kai looked up, and it seemed like the room froze around them. The girl’s eyes went wide as he smiled too sweetly and said, “Oh, that will be just fine. My little love bug doesn’t eat a lot.” Just as suddenly as Kai had looked up, he’d shifted his full gaze to Makoto, and now Makoto’s blood was running hot again. “Isn’t that right, darling?”

Makoto’s mind was screaming that this was wrong, wrong, something was wrong, but in the face of Kai’s smile, he could only nod and give his own smile. He turned to the girl with a reassuring smile and regurgitated Kai’s words. “I really don’t eat that much.” The words tasted like plastic in his mouth, but he managed to keep his smile genuine. The girl’s eyes darted back and forth for a wild moment before she scurried off, and now Makoto was left to gather himself and his courage.

He slowly turned to Kai, who had his cheek resting on his fist, head tilted as he gazed at Makoto. It threw Makoto off, and he forgot his words. What had he meant to say? Oh... “Kai...” he choked out in the quietest voice. His boyfriend smiled wide, leaning forward to be closer.

“Yes, my love? Were you embarrassed that I spoke about you like that to her? You’ll have to get used to it,” he joked lightly with a laugh.

Makoto found himself laughing too even as he knew that wasn’t what he’d meant to…

“I might actually be a little hungry today,” he tried. Maybe Kai meant to share his steak. Makoto’s mouth watered at the thought.

Kai raised his head and dropped his hand to the table, smiling as he pushed Makoto’s glass of wine towards him. “I’ve heard their salads here are excellent. You won’t be disappointed.”

Makoto’s lips felt strange as they pulled up into a smile by themselves, but Kai looked so happy, and he’d called him those cute pet names. Makoto’s own worries were lost in the face of Kai’s giddy nature. He found himself smiling and laughing as Kai talked about his day. Oh, he’d be trying out for the Olympic wrestling team soon. Makoto said confidently that Kai would do well; Makoto had never seen Kai fight, but he was very sure Kai would do just fine somehow. When the food came, the wait staff cast a worried look as he put down the salad and steak platter, Kai making a very clear distinction between his food and Makoto’s. Kai looked unconcerned, happy about his food as he raised his utensils, and Makoto stared at the tiny, tiny little salad bowl. For the first time in a long while, he was actually really hungry.

“What’s wrong?”

Makoto’s head jerked to the side, no idea what face he was making until Kai frowned deeply.

“Does it not look good?”

“It’s just small-“ choked out Makoto. “I haven’t been eating a lot lately, but I’m feeling hungry tonight,” he tried with a laugh a moment later when Kai said nothing.

“Oh, darling,” purred Kai. “But you’re looking so beautiful lately.” A big, warm arm slipped around Makoto’s frame and Kai pulled him into a gentle hug. Into his ear, he whispered, “You shouldn’t ruin your figure by eating too much now. You’ve worked so hard.”

Makoto felt warmth close in around him like a safe cocoon as Kai held him, the world fading away. Makoto nodded and pressed his nose to Kai’s neck. He gave a quivering little hum of happiness. One compliment, one hug, Kai’s voice so gentle, and Makoto was undone. They pulled apart and Makoto turned to his salad, embarrassed.

“Thank you,” he whispered gratefully as he dug in. Oh, it was so yummy. Whoever had recommended this place to Kai knew what they were talking about. Makoto cleaned out his bowl, and before he knew it, two-thirds of his wine was gone too. He grinned sleepily at Kai, vision blurred by alcohol and fuzzy feelings and Kai petted his thumb over Makoto’s inner thigh.

“Let’s go home,” murmured Kai hotly into Makoto’s ear as he paid their bill. Makoto hiccuped into his shoulder and grinned.

“Yeah,” he slurred. The alcohol was hitting him way harder than it ever had; the rational part of his brain was shut off, though, and he downed the rest of his glass.

He didn’t remember much else from that night. He woke up the next morning in intense pain, Peanut curled up on his chest like she’d seen something that had frightened her. Makoto’s throat was hoarse. Not knowing what had happened, he cried. He didn’t move from bed until that night, when he pulled himself up and got ready for work. Everything hurt, but Makoto couldn’t remember a thing. His stomach felt hollow and his head throbbed along with his body.

x

It had been a long time since Makoto’s toes had touched pool water. He sat on the edge of the Olympic sized pool in the Mikoshiba family’s aquatic center, legs in and moving them slowly through the water as he remembered the feel, the pull of the water on his skin. It saddened him to feel his muscles tiring out already. But when Seijuro had invited him again to come, Makoto had agreed instantly. Today had been a bad day.

Makoto couldn’t look up when a finger tapped softly against the crown of his head. He wouldn’t admit yet that he was crying. He couldn’t say he didn’t want to take his shirt off to get in when Seijuro’s kind voice asked him when he was going to jump in. The silence settled around them again, Seijuro’s fingers coming slowly to rest on Makoto’s mess of brunet hair. He hadn’t even bothered to comb it today. It felt nice; Makoto closed his eyes and let his tears fall into the pool.

The water rippled and suddenly Seijuro was sitting next to Makoto, an arm easily hugging around Makoto’s slim shoulders, and without any need to speak or do anything, they let the silence surround them again. There was only the familiar sound of water slowly lapping against tile.

“You don’t have to swim today.”

Makoto’s heart felt lighter just like that. He barely even knew Seijuro, and Seijuro him, but yet this man seemed to understand exactly... For the first time in a very long time, there was no pressure to be okay. Seijuro didn’t know about his past, nor did he push Makoto to tell him. It was a peace Makoto hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Slowly, he sank against Seijuro’s shoulder and rested his head there, so tired. He shut his eyes and silenced his intrusive thoughts and decided to just let himself be.

“Thank you...” he said roughly, voice thick with emotion, but Seijuro didn’t ask anything, nor demand answers. He just sat with Makoto in whatever the other was feeling; Makoto had needed this for a long time without even knowing it.

Slowly, he found himself telling his story; it was cathartic in a way that talking to Haru or Nagisa, or being comforted by Kai, had never been. Seijuro was silent as Makoto cried, as he let himself slowly process the last year.

“I loved him so dearly. I’m not sure if I ever won’t love him. He was my whole heart; he was perfection. But I wasn’t the same for him...” Makoto paused, tried for a smile, felt that instant urge to say it was okay, but instead he let himself feel that it _wasn’t_ okay. He cried for a long time. The water was cool against his legs, and every once in a while he’d move his legs through the pool and he would start crying again, new memories coming like waves. “I loved him so much,” he sobbed desperately as he clutched at his shirt. He could have never admitted these things aloud to anyone else, though he was sure Haru knew. But with Seijuro it was different. It was easy. The man’s shirt was soaked with tears, but he didn’t pull away or make comments. His hand stayed on Makoto’s head, warm, comforting without even trying to be.

Then Makoto smiled softly and he told, for the first time, about Kai. “It might not be perfect, but he makes me feel better. He makes me feel okay about myself...” Makoto bit his lip. “He’s sweet when he wants to be, super sweet.” He gave a small smile to no one in particular. “He’s sweet,” he muttered again.

Finally, Seijuro spoke, his voice as soft and kind as always. “As long as he treats you well,” he said, patting Makoto’s hair slowly.

“He does!” insisted Makoto. More than Makoto deserved to be treated well, Kai was good to him.

Slowly, Makoto pulled himself together and up, a weight lifted, and he smiled again at the pool. “Thank you for the invite; I’m sorry we didn’t actually swim.”

Seijuro laughed, a sound that echoed around the pool area beautifully. “I swim all the time; I’m not upset. It seems you needed this more than a swim, but if you ever do need a swim, just give me a call. Or call me whenever even if you don’t want to swim.”

Makoto couldn’t explain how much this brand new relationship was already healing him. He stood and wiped his legs with a towel Seijuro gave him, pressing it to his face next to cool his cheeks, wiping the tears off and inhaling the sharp scent of chlorine. He did miss it; his heart ached sadly. It was another long lost love; he wondered if this one he could one day return to, learn to love again.

“Thank you, Seijuro.”

As he walked home, he called Haru, a smile on his lips.

“I have something I want to tell you.”

Haru was quiet on the other end, as if recognizing Makoto’s lighter soul through the phone line.

“I’m dating someone. I’d like you to meet him one day.”

“Is he good to you?” was the first thing Haru asked, and Makoto really thought before he answered.

With a big smile, he finally giggled out a, “Yes.”

“Do you love him?”

“Hmm,” hummed Makoto as he smiled wider. “I think maybe I do.” 

“As long as he makes you happy...”

Makoto laughed into the phone, a little shy. He couldn’t see Haru’s face, but Haru seemed quieter than usual. It didn’t necessarily mean anything bad, but when Haru said, “I’m happy for you, Makoto,” the brunet knew he was being genuine. Makoto ran all the way home after wishing Haru a goodnight, and after his shower he texted Kai.

“Thinking of you. Miss you.”

His head hit the pillow and he crashed. His phone was silent all night. Makoto dreamed of happy things.


	5. Faithfully

Makoto could not believe what was happening right now. Kai was staring daggers into the back of Makoto’s head as he stood by the bar. Haru looked like he could almost feel it too; his face revealed nothing, but his eyes followed Makoto everywhere. There were so many things Makoto wanted to say to Haru, to tell him about, but this situation was making it hard.

“I’m sorry, Haru.”

The dark-haired male looked over his shoulder, watching Kai out of the corner of his eye. Makoto turned to the back wall and frowned. This wasn’t how he wanted Haru to meet Kai; his boyfriend was projecting the wrong image, and he’d just sang Kai’s praises to Haru last night.

“He’s a great guy, I swear. He just gets a little jealous in here. It’s understandable; it’s a male strip club.”

“It’s not like you’re one of the strippers,” Haru said as he rolled his eyes. As if those were magic code words, suddenly Nagisa was glued to Makoto’s side, and the brunet feared Kai might actually boil over as even Rei leaned across the bar with a smile at Makoto.

“Makoto, baby, are you finally going to do it?”

Makoto rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, but he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do what?” asked Haru in a highly defensive tone.

“Haru! I’ve been trying to get Makoto to try out the pole for months now, but he won’t dance!”

Haru stood then, the most livid he could be, and he shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.”

Nagisa let out the loudest whine. “Why not?! He’d be so great at it!”

“Of course he’d be great at it,” said Haru plainly. “He’s great at everything he does. But I absolutely will not let you make him dance.”

Makoto blinked wide at Haru as Nagisa grabbed at his arm and began posturing back to Haru. Rei just watched it all with amusement behind his glasses.

“And what if Makoto wants to do it?”

“He doesn’t,” said Haru like it had already been decided, on the defense. “Makoto will never touch a stripper pole as long as he lives.”

“Actually-“ said Makoto, because he had tried it out one night before opening for like two seconds, but Nagisa was now jumping around, looking like his whole 5 foot 6 was ready to fight Haru, at nearly 6 feet.

Makoto tossed his head back and actually laughed aloud at this, and everyone went silent and turned to look at him with wide eyes. He couldn’t help grinning at his friends even as Kai was glaring at him from his isolated booth. He thought about turning around and just waving his pouting boyfriend over, but Nagisa grabbed him again, around the waist this time and hugged him tightly.

“Makoto, never change! You’re an angel!”

Haru just eyed Makoto, taking side glances at Kai. Makoto gave another little giggle and then whispered happily. “I have to get back to work.”

Rei slid a glass across the counter and simply nodded towards Kai’s direction, like he was saying, _It looks like he needs it._ Makoto smiled gratefully at Rei, Nagisa still pouting and Haru silent. A hand grabbed his just before he turned away, and he smiled reassuringly at his best friend.

“He’s sweet, Haru, I swear.” His heart shivered in his chest and he gave another smile. Kai’s eyes followed his sauntering walk all the way to his booth, where Makoto set down his drink refill and picked up his empty glass. He noticed Kai’s fisted hand, gave him a confused smile.

“They’re just my-“ he began, but Kai waved him towards himself impatiently. Makoto leaned over the table, his naked thighs pressing into the sides. A small gasp left his lips as a strong hand grabbed his chin and pulled him forward in a rush, lips crashing together. Instantly, his back relaxed and he leaned heavier into the table. A tongue slid over his lip and then inside his mouth when he parted them easily, his eyes shuttering closed as he savored the display of affection to him. When he pulled back, his cheeks were rosy and Kai was smirking at him possessively.

“You’re mine,” he reminded Makoto in a deep, sexy voice, and Makoto shivered, weak.

He purred back a, “Yes, I am.” Kai let his chin go after another bruising kiss, and Makoto was dizzy. Kai slid to the edge of the booth and slid a hand gently up Makoto’s waist, smiling. With his two big hands, he could hold Makoto so easily now. Makoto let out a purr without thinking, totally submissive to Kai’s sweet nature.

And then Kai sent him off with a slap to his rear and Makoto spun around. His eyes made instant contact with Haru’s deep blue, and the other’s expression was unreadable, which wasn’t really anything new, but it made Makoto worry. He wanted his friends to like Kai too; especially Haru, and Rin.

He shouldn’t worry; they hadn’t even properly met. They would all see that Kai treated him well, that he was a great guy. Makoto smiled and nodded, resolute.

x

“Let me walk you home,” whispered Kai as he leaned down over Makoto, the rest of Makoto’s coworkers long gone. Kai had waited outside for his lover. He husked into Makoto’s ear and pulled the other to himself. “Or would you like to come to mine?”

Makoto shivered, turned his face up and smiled. “Yours,” he whispered shyly. Being with Kai had become a little easier. The things in Makoto’s life that were hard for him to deal with were easy to ignore when he was with Kai. He reminded himself every day of the times Kai was sweet to him, and he knew he barely deserved that much affection. He slipped his hand down Kai’s arm, and the other pulled his hand out of his pocket to let Makoto hold it. It was a simple gesture, but it meant the whole world to Makoto, when his first boyfriend had never given him the same kindness of holding his hand. He smiled up at Kai, eyes a little wet, but the other just shook his head at Makoto and tugged him on. Makoto’s smile dropped to the pavement, but it was good. Kai never asked him hard questions, and that was fine with Makoto. He didn’t have the strength to say the hard things out loud. Even Seijuro and Nagisa only knew half of the story. Haru knew simply because he’d been right there with Makoto through it all. Kai didn’t seem interested to know, or maybe that was his own kindness to Makoto. All Kai cared about was their present, and that was fine with Makoto.

Kai’s apartment felt cold until the big man filled the space. He decorated in strong colors like silver and black, all expensive things that Makoto kind of doubted he’d picked out himself; he giggled inwardly to think of it. Kai, who seemed perfect, did have his own shortcomings, interior design probably one of them. This time they made it to the bedroom before Kai swept Makoto up into his arms, and for once, his kiss was slow and gentle. Heat rose in Makoto and he let the other man hold him, which was so easy now. Clothes were slowly shed between the two until it was just skin on skin, Makoto’s hands pressed and roaming to broad muscle and taut skin. Kai held him against himself by the ass, their erections pressing eagerly together. Kai had never been so gentle or sweet before, and Makoto pulled back in slow-hitting disbelief.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and Kai looked at him like there wasn’t anything different. It made Makoto wonder if Kai even noticed how he could be so vastly different in certain situations. 

Sometimes he was so sweet Makoto barely thought he deserved it, and other times he hurt Makoto like the brunet barely mattered at all. It was a roller coaster, but the highs always came around at just the right time, just before Makoto really, really got hurt, just before he gave up on it all. Kai would be there to catch him, and he’d be so sweet, and Makoto would think once again that he didn’t deserve someone like Kai.

Lips met again, but this time Kai’s kiss was more urgent, as he hefted Makoto to the bed and slid over him. Kisses trailed down Makoto’s jaw, down his neck and over his jutting collar bones. They continued down his chest, which was soft and undefined now, and over every rib bone so visible when he laid on his back. His stomach sank in and Kai kissed along the edge, down Makoto’s side and to his hip bones. Makoto’s erection throbbed against Kai’s cheek, but the man paid it no mind. Instead, he took one of Makoto’s balls into his mouth and suckled like his life depended on it, fingers slipping inside Makoto’s ass with some saliva. Makoto’s whole body came alive like a stoked fire, and he shut his eyes and melted into the mattress that smelled like his man. He hugged a pillow to his face as Kai slowly pressed himself inside Makoto, as he slowly and almost painfully made love to Makoto’s body. He petted his slim waist and small figure, his thin legs and bony feet. 

Makoto was barely half the man he’d been a year and a half ago, but in this moment, he truly felt that he was happy.

Some days were easier than others.

Makoto came twice that night, a record, and Kai fell asleep with an arm draped over his boyfriend’s stomach. When it began to rumble queasily, Makoto slid out of bed and waddled naked to the bathroom he’d become very familiar with in the dark. He made his way quite confidently to the toilet, where he ritually cleaned himself out, but this time he was smiling, not crying. Was this the first time he hadn’t cried after sex? It had somehow started feeling good, but Kai had never been this sweet to him before, making love instead of having sex, or worse, using Makoto to get off. When Makoto was cleared out of Kai’s slick, because the man didn’t believe in condoms and Makoto didn’t have the strength to say maybe that wasn’t a good idea, he stood and let the soft light of the night light by the sink illuminate his fragile body. He’d hid his weight loss for a while, but at this point, everyone could tell, he was sure. No one said a word though, but Haru seemed to take it the hardest of all, as if he was watching his best friend slowly fade away. 

Makoto understood; maybe Haru had clung to hopes that Makoto would one day swim again, maybe even competitively. Makoto thought that Haru had waited for him for a long time. But now Makoto doubted he’d ever swim again, competitively or otherwise. He’d have to start from scratch, like a child. All of his muscles had faded away, his strength leaving him, his pride and joy snatched, gone. 

Still, Haru nor anyone else knew how bad it was. Makoto’s clothes hid the way his ribs stuck to his skin and his stomach caved in a little. It hid how flat his chest was and how his shoulders were little more than bones and flesh. Makoto was thankful for the cold weather, as it allowed him to wear sleeves, but soon it would start getting warm again. His arms were so skinny, and his hands showed his bones. Most people wouldn’t give a second glance, but compared to the old Makoto, he was practically wasting away.

Makoto pressed his hand to his chest and felt his heartbeat. He was alive. Despite it all, he was alive, and he had a responsibility to live for those who weren’t, for those who loved him. He would try again to be better. If he could just eat, it would be okay, but he either wasn’t hungry, or he was too tired. He didn’t even add to it the fact that Kai fed him scraps like a dog, praised him for being so slim. It was trivial under the weight of his own glaring problems, his own weaknesses and shortcomings.

He was about to slip back into the bedroom, but something stopped him. There was a light shining up, Kai’s face illuminated as he was absorbed in what he was reading on his phone. Makoto stepped closer, and his heart fell to the floor.

No, not Kai’s phone. _His_ phone.

Makoto’s hands shook as a wave of hot rage flashed over him, the strongest emotion he’d felt in eighteen months. He stared in wide disbelief at Kai, as the man didn’t even look up, just kept scrolling, reading.

Only Makoto’s fear of Kai’s anger kept his tone in check. “What are you doing, Kai?”

Slowly, the man looked up, face unconcerned. He sat up, Makoto’s phone still clutched in his hand. His eyes were cold.

“You’ve been spending less time with me, Makoto. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you and your little friends, or the way you’ve been running around like a common whore.”

Makoto blinked wide, so shocked he couldn’t speak. What did Kai think he was doing? Sure, he’d been spending more time with Haru, and at the pool with Seijuro, but Makoto had never thought of those things as bad, or “running around”. Something in his spirit, like an automatic response that had been installed, checked his reaction, and he wondered if he _had_ been doing something bad...

Still he whispered, “They’re just friends.”

“I don’t even know where you’re going, or who you’re with, what you’re doing.” Icy blue eyes shot up, Kai’s lips drawn tightly down. “I’m your _boyfriend_ , Makoto, and I _don’t know_.”

“I haven’t been doing anything bad, I swear.” Suddenly Makoto was by the bed, on his knees, clinging to Kai’s hand, crying, begging for forgiveness. He couldn’t remember if he’d done something wrong but it sure felt like it suddenly. “Kai, you know I love you so much, you’re the only one for me. Please...”

Kai just watched over Makoto like some kind of god, weighing whether there was need for punishment. Makoto’s phone still shone light on his face, but Makoto couldn’t bring himself to lift his head. The cold hardwood was harsh on his bony knees.

“Were you planning on telling me about this party you’re going to, or did you think to go without letting me know again?”

Makoto’s text messages with Haru flashed in his head. There had been a party in the planning for a few weeks now, a celebration for those who’d made it onto the Olympic swim team. The qualifiers had been yesterday, but he hadn’t even been able to go see Haru and Rin swim for a spot on the team. They’d both made it, of course, as Makoto had known they would, but the pain of not being able to be there had been upsetting. 

Makoto had been so happy when Haru had invited him, when he’d told Makoto the news last night. He didn’t mention his worries that Haru was mad that he hadn’t come to see him swim, but Kai had tied Makoto down that day and he hadn’t found the words to escape. Still, he felt so guilty; he’d apologized, but Haru had waved it off. There was nothing incriminating or wrong with their conversation or exchanges, but why was Makoto on his knees now, feeling like he’d done something unforgivable? Was it because he thought going to see Haru was bad? Was it cheating on a different level, not physical, but emotional? Because he could breathe easier with Haru?

“I’m so sorry, Kai,” Makoto whispered again, scared. He was so scared that this was it. Would Kai break it off with him?

“I’ll forgive you, Makoto,” said Kai, lifting Makoto’s head, his expression lofty, like he was being so benevolent. Makoto felt his heart stir with anticipation, his palms sweaty. “I’ll forgive you, so how about we go to the party together?”

It wasn’t a suggestion; Makoto didn’t care. He nodded eagerly, desperate to be forgiven for his wrongdoing. “Yes! Come! We’ll go together!”

Finally Kai dropped Makoto’s phone to the bed and he hauled Makoto up by his arms, pulled him into a deep kiss that soothed Makoto’s frazzled soul. He remembered again that Kai was sweet; he only wanted the best for Makoto, for them. Makoto melted against his big boyfriend, letting Kai drag him under the covers, all forgotten. His anger over Kai breaking into his phone was forgotten, for now.

x

_Makoto, maybe you shouldn’t come tomorrow._

Makoto stared at his phone with tears in his eyes. He had thought it, but he could hardly believe Haru was actually mad at him.

_I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the meet, but I had been looking forward to celebrating with you..._

Makoto sat in the dark, on his bed. Peanut Butter had been asleep until Makoto had shifted, physically uncomfortable from Haru’s text. He couldn’t believe Haru would be so cruel to uninvite him. He was actually angry at his best friend, torn apart by his failings to be there in the moments that mattered to Haru, sad. He wasn’t sure which emotion was more just.

In his hand, his phone buzzed softly. Haru was calling him, but he couldn’t answer. Haru would know instantly that Makoto was crying.

The phone fell silent again, Makoto staring as the window of their text message popped back up again. A moment later, another text came.

_We can celebrate together later, just the three of us._

_I think the party will overwhelm you. A lot of people are coming._

Makoto’s lips twisted. It was true that Makoto would feel overwhelmed if there really were a lot of people coming, people he didn’t know, but a part of him, a seed of doubt suddenly appearing, whispered that this was all just a convenient lie. 

Plus, Kai was coming with him. How could he tell his boyfriend that he’d been uninvited? Kai would be suspicious and think he was trying to go alone; he’d be angry.

 _It’s fine. I want to come._ Makoto’s hands shook even as he typed, but his fear of Kai’s anger was more than his worry of upsetting Haru, or even his fear of finding out that Haru was lying to him and really didn’t want him to come. _I’m coming!_

Makoto tossed his phone to the edge of his bed, ignored it as it buzzed and begged for attention. He curled up around Peanut, who kneaded her paws against Makoto’s chest in concern. 

Baseless worries swirled up inside Makoto, the worst case scenario already playing out. He’d been conditioned to expect it by now. He was going to the party; he had to go. He had to know if Haru was giving up on him. He had to go tell Haru and Rin that either way, he was so proud of them. If this was the end, he would go out with only kind words and happiness for his friends. 

Haru and Rin could take their own path; he wouldn’t stand in their way, but he’d allow himself one last selfish act by wishing them happiness face to face. If he wasn’t wanted, he’d leave right after.

He had Kai now. He’d be okay, watching from the shadows as his friends achieved the dream they’d all shared together.

He’d be okay. 

x

Makoto hadn’t looked at his messages from Haru the entire day. He’d woken up with crusty eyes around noon, and Kai had come over, a welcome distraction as Makoto tried to prepare his heart for the goodbye. Kai had even bought him a new outfit.

The long-sleeve shirt was soft against Makoto’s skin, a deep maroon color that looked nice against his pale skin. The dark jeans were fashionably torn and fit him almost like a glove. Makoto looked into the mirror, Kai sidling up behind him, smiling as he kissed Makoto’s ear.

“You look handsome, love.”

For the first time in a long time, Makoto looked in the mirror and liked what he saw. More than the baggy shirts he’d started wearing, this shirt fit him, making him look trim and presentable. Maybe he’d needed to claim his new body before, instead of trying to hide it. With Kai behind him, he looked dwarfed, but it was okay. Kai slipped his arms around Makoto’s waist and smiled over his shoulder. His chest was warm and solid as Makoto sank back against it.

“Just remember tonight who loves you the most,” Kai whispered against Makoto’s ear, heat stirring up as Makoto smiled. He reached back, nodding. Yes, if all the world fell away from Makoto, he would still have Kai.

“I love you, too,” Makoto said with a sweet smile, and Kai kissed his neck.

Makoto pulled on his ankle boots, and they looked almost comically large now on his thin legs, but when Kai looked at him and smiled, he felt good again. He picked up his phone and keys, stuffing them into the small bag across his chest. Kai took his hand as they walked out, holding Makoto’s as tightly as he would, no matter what happened tonight. It was Makoto’s singular comfort. They rode to the venue in silence.

Makoto was almost too relieved when he saw how many cars were outside the aquatic center. He almost cried in relief when he saw the amount of people spilling inside in fancy party wear. Haru hadn’t been lying. Then came the anxiety; his heart slammed into overdrive and he thought that he couldn’t do this. How could he face Haru when he’d thought those horrible things? How could he go into such a crowded place? Every face he saw was a stranger. But Kai pulled him out of the car with a laugh, like he didn’t notice how Makoto’s face was stricken and his heart was racing, his skin pale and clammy. Makoto’s feet refused to pick up as he was dragged along inside behind Kai. Before he knew it, they came to a halt, and Makoto looked up into soft, blue eyes.

Haru gave him a smile that Makoto couldn’t read, but the other was too emotionally vulnerable to read into it anyways. He flung himself at Haru, knowing Kai was right there, but he didn’t care. He needed support. Haru’s arms slipped to Makoto’s back as Makoto let out a great sigh of relief.

“Congratulations,” he whispered into Haru’s neck just as another body collided with both of theirs.

“Where were you?!” demanded Rin with a deep frown as he wrenched Makoto from Haru’s arms. He shook the other, but he stopped slowly and his eyes went wide as he took Makoto in. It had been a while since the two had been this close, that Rin had really seen Makoto. “What-“ he began, but Haru slapped around his back, uncharacteristic as he tried to change the subject with a, “Glad you’re here, Makoto.”

His tone seemed to turn a bit bitter as he asked coldly, “Who’s this?” But maybe Makoto was imagining it, because Kai was beaming widely as he stuck out a hand to Haru.

“I’m Makoto’s boyfriend, Kai. Congratulations on making the team. I wrestle on Japan’s Olympic team.”

Kai’s free hand pulled Makoto possessively back to his side, and Makoto wondered if he was imagining the electricity in the air as Kai and Haru faced each other. Haru, though, was obviously fuming. What only Makoto saw was Haru’s nails digging deep into Rin’s arm in an effort to silence him. Rin pressed his lips together, getting the memo. He slowly took Makoto in silently.

“Nice to meet you.” Haru’s voice sounded clipped. “Glad you two could make it.”

Makoto pressed his lips together, the statement a contradiction to Haru’s earlier texts, but he was just happy to actually be here. Maybe Haru had really just been worried about the crowd in here being overwhelming for Makoto, but with Kai at his side, he was doing okay.

“I’m glad to be here,” whispered Makoto earnestly, looking from Haru to Rin. “You both deserve this, and I’m so proud of you. For making your dreams come true. You’ve fought long and hard.”

Haru took Makoto’s hand in his own and gave him a smile that spoke volumes: of his sadness that Makoto wasn’t by their side, of his resolve to make all of their dreams come true, so that Makoto could watch them succeed in his place.

Makoto didn’t deserve such wonderful friends.

There was a small commotion near the door, and Haru’s eyes went wide as his head swiveled to it and then back to Makoto, but Makoto was turning to look before Haru could stop it.

Makoto’s whole world screeched to a halt. From the corner of his eye, he watched Haru’s eyes go wide, watched Rin go stiff. Kai was still laughing like someone had said something funny, but everything slowly faded away.

He hadn’t seen Makoto yet, but Makoto could see him clear as day. It wasn’t a daydream, or a mirage. He knew that much because Haru’s nails digging into his hand told him so.

Haru’s voice swam in and out, Makoto’s ears plugged with wool. “I tried to tell you... you should head home... Makoto, talk to me...”

Looking wonderful, more handsome than Makoto dared to remember, as stiff as ever but somehow happier, stood the love of Makoto’s life, his ex-boyfriend. Yamazaki Sousuke was back in Japan. There was a moment of the highest heart soar until reality crashed in again. There was a loud laugh, a head of bright red hair popping out from behind Sousuke’s large frame. The woman beside him stood confidently next to Sousuke as she clung to his arm. Makoto’s ears rang almost deafeningly loud. All he could hear was the sound of brakes screeching to a halt, violently. He could barely even feel Haru’s nails digging into his skin anymore.

Oh.

This was why Haru had told Makoto not to come. Oh, okay.

He turned to Haru with wide eyes. He should have trusted Haru and listened, but... 

Kai’s arm tightened around Makoto’s waist, but he slipped easily down as he saw from the corner of his eye that Sousuke was turning to survey the room. Makoto sank down to his haunches, slim arms flying around his knees as he hugged himself there. Above him, the atmosphere was growing heavier. Kai’s feet shuffled by him, but everything was muffled again. Makoto’s heart was trying to climb out of his rib cage.

Sousuke was here, Sousuke was back.

Makoto had to get out.

His legs gathered a strength he was sure he’d lost, and he bolted up and towards the back door. Tears blinded him, but his path was clear until someone stepped in his way. Seijuro’s voice washed away everything, and Makoto slumped forward as all of his energy left him. Thankfully Seijuro was quick to catch him.

“Makoto?”

“Makoto!”

The second voice was Kai. He was furious.

“Makoto, what’s wrong?” Seijuro, so sweet.

“Mako!” Haru, frantic but trying to keep his voice down.

A rough hand grabbed Makoto’s arm and pulled him from Seijuro, whirled him around until he collided with Kai’s chest. “Who the fuck are you?”

Seijuro didn’t answer. Haru pulled up and tried to put a hand to Makoto’s forehead but Kai smacked his hand away.

“And who the fuck is that?”

All eyes turned to Sousuke, who was being crowded at the front door still. Makoto shook in Kai’s arms but no one answered.

Kai was smart; he would figure it out. It only took a few minutes, but then Kai was leaning over Makoto, the rest of the world forgotten as he hushed sternly, “Shouldn’t you go say hi to your old friend?”

There was a chill in the air that Kai was causing, and Makoto realized suddenly exactly how bad the situation was, but as Kai dragged him through the room, he had absolutely no strength to resist. It was all happening too fast, way too fast. He turned back, Haru watching him go, eyes wide and lips parted, powerless. Rin was standing where they’d left him, watching Makoto with a terrible dawning realization, pain crossing his features so strongly that it hurt Makoto to see.

“It’s not what you think, Rin,” he wanted to say. He wanted to smile and assure his friends but Kai was dragging him towards his doom and all he could do was stare wide-eyed at his friends. Kai came to a halt and whipped Makoto around.

“Congratulations on making the team. I’m Kai.”

Silence blanketed the space around them, people slowly moving away from Sousuke as if they could sense the alpha spirit Kai was trying to project.

When Sousuke spoke, Makoto’s whole world shattered to pieces, and he could see every lie he’d told himself, every time he’d thought he was okay crumbling apart like paper. Kai was the only thing holding him up with a death grip on his arm. Bruises would form.

“Sousuke,” he introduced himself, confusion in his voice.

“This must seem strange, but I believe you know my boyfriend.” Makoto’s whole body rebelled, nausea rising violently with the bile in his stomach. Kai leaned in, whispered, but it was loud enough for Sousuke to hear. “Makoto, say hello, darling.”

Makoto’s head trembled as he raised it, and for the first time in a very, very long time, his eyes beheld the glory of Sousuke. He looked so well, but the slow recognition killed Makoto. Sousuke showed only minimal expression, but Makoto saw the shock on his face. He suddenly felt very, very small.

When Sousuke said Makoto’s name, it was like worlds colliding, the past and the present. Everything blurred, bringing with it an intense pain, but Makoto couldn’t tear his eyes away from Sousuke. He looked... confused, disappointed. Makoto wanted to run again, but Kai held him with a strength even Makoto had never felt from him before. There would be so many bruises on his body and his heart from this night.

“You look well,” choked out Makoto. He barely got the words out, but an inhale of air sent him nearly dry heaving. Sickeningly cloying perfume filled Makoto’s lungs and nose. A blur of red hair and a pretty face, too much make-up. A high voice asked something in a foreign language, and Sousuke turned to look down to the woman by his side.

“Ah,” he said as an afterthought, as he turned back to Makoto, so awkward. He decided at the last moment to look at Kai instead when he introduced his girlfriend and physical therapist. “This is Ayame. She’s really taken care of me.”

“So you’re feeling better then,” choked Makoto out in a rush. It was painful and blissful to finally have Sousuke’s eyes off him, but they slid back to him and he was once again happy, once again torn apart.

“Yes. I’m swimming again.”

Makoto realized something very abruptly, and he looked up with wide eyes at Sousuke. “You made the team,” he whispered.

“Of course he did!” chimed Ayame, but Makoto heard nothing, saw nothing but Sousuke’s face. Sousuke was as hard to read as ever; he stared at Makoto. All of Makoto’s flaws were laid out before him for Sousuke to see; the one person Makoto never wanted to show this weak side of himself to.

“You’re not swimming anymore?” Sousuke asked, his voice almost drowned out by his girlfriend as she raved and praised Sousuke.

Makoto just gave Sousuke a shaky smile, trying his best to maintain his composure, but from the bottom of his heart, something swelled up.

“Congratulations, Sousuke. I’m so very happy for you. You’ve realized your dreams.” Makoto’s smile never faltered as he spoke, his words one hundred percent true. He wasn’t bitter; he didn’t think of the sadness that Sousuke healed represented. If Sousuke had stayed, would it be him under the man’s arm, babbling happily? No, Sousuke wouldn’t be standing here if he hadn’t left. There was nothing that Makoto in his strength could have ever done for Sousuke to allow him to swim again.

“I’m glad you’ve found someone,” he said finally, green eyes kind and warm on Sousuke as he tilted his head and smiled, his heartbreak taking a backseat for this moment of true pride and happiness for the love of his life. No, Sousuke would never be anything less to Makoto; the brunet would always love him so deeply. But he could let Sousuke be happy; he could let the other man go to someone else. He could be happy for him.

“It was nice to meet you, Ayame.”

Teal eyes just watched Makoto in silence. His face was still unreadable. Makoto silently took Kai’s hand and led him away. He clung to his boyfriend, lest his knees give out. He didn’t notice Sousuke’s eyes follow him for a moment until Ayame redirected his attention back to her. He didn’t notice the tiny, bitter twist of Sousuke’s lips.

He stepped up to Haru and Rin, the two waiting in bated breath, but when Makoto lifted his head, he was truly smiling.

“All of you, I’m so proud of you. You’re all achieving your dreams despite so many setbacks.” His smile trembled for a moment, a moment of weakness as he clenched Kai’s hand in his own, Kai gripping back. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be strong like you, to stand with you here today, but please know I will always cheer you all on.”

“Makoto,” whispered Rin, but Haru gave him a tiny shake of his head.

“Thank you, Makoto,” Haru said, turning back to his best friend. “Stay and have some food with us if you’d like.”

Makoto gave Haru a smile; his best friend could read him like the back of his mind. Makoto, as much as a situation could destroy him, thrived off of love and happiness, and this place was chock full of it. Kai was holding onto him like he was never going to let him go, and despite how Makoto had imagined he might feel in this moment, how he had felt just a few moments before, he was overflowing with pride and joy.

Kai was loud, and he spoke too highly of Makoto, but Makoto laughed with Haru and Rin, drank and ate more than he had in a long time, until he was full and Kai ate the rest of what was on his small plate. He could smile past the way Haru and Rin watched as Kai stole the very little amount of food Makoto had on his plate, he could feel their concern as they offered to get him another plate, offered him food off their own, but Makoto laughed and shook his hands, happy.

Makoto had no way of knowing that this moment of happiness might be his very last. The structure he’d built to his life was falling down around him, and Kai would make him reap the consequences of things out of Makoto’s control.

Still, Makoto would faithfully cling to Kai, would love him wholeheartedly, would speak no evil, because Kai was the only person, the only person who could love a mess like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here he is, folks.  
> The man of the hour.  
> Sousuke has arrived. 
> 
> 👀👀👀👀


	6. Peace Amidst the Storm

Makoto smiled at Seijuro as the man swam up to the edge of the pool where Makoto sat. He combed back his hair and smiled just above the edge of the water, like he was waiting for something.

“One day, you’ll get in with me, won’t you?”

Makoto looked at the water and gave a soft smile. There were a lot of good memories for Makoto in the water, but he wasn’t sure he deserved them anymore. He rubbed softly at his legs, covered by his rolled up jeans. He winced, but kept doing it.

“Maybe, but not today,” was all he said. It was what he said every time. He watched Seijuro swim another lap.

“What are you doing here?”

Makoto’s head whipped around, and there stood Rin in his swim jammers, showing off a lean body. Haru moved up behind him, head down until Rin had spoken. When he saw Makoto, he smiled, happy to see the brunet. Haru had tried to talk to Makoto a few times after the party, but Makoto had become uncharacteristically silent about that night. He rubbed at his leg again, a little harder this time as he returned Haru’s smile with one of his own.

“Gonna swim with us again?” asked Rin as he pulled on his goggles, the familiar snap as he pulled the band back and released it. Makoto closed his eyes, the memories coming in waves now. He smiled past the pain.

“No, not today,” was all he said. Haru watched him quietly. While Rin dove in, Haru calmly slipped into the pool beside Makoto. He swam down and back up, resting his head on folded arms at the edge, watching Makoto.

“Are you doing okay?” he whispered softly. Seijuro waded just a few feet away, quiet now too. Everyone waited for Makoto’s answer, but he had nothing to give except another smile.

“I’m all right. I’ll be okay.”

“It was a shock,” Haru said, recollecting quietly. “I didn’t know he was coming back either until he showed up at the qualifiers.”

“I’m glad he’s able to swim again,” said Makoto with more emotion than he’d meant to, but he let the words hang in the air without apology. These were the people he was closest to, and once in a while he could be a little vulnerable, right...? He pressed his fingers into his bruised legs and shook his head, lowering it with a muttered apology.

Rin was there now, looking like he had a few words to say about Sousuke, anger clear on his face. “Even I didn’t know,” he fumed.

Haru turned back, a little surprised. “Really?”

“You think I wouldn’t mention it if I knew? I knew nothing. Sousuke hasn’t talked to me for almost a year.”

Everyone blinked at Rin in shock. Sousuke and Rin had been inseparable before the taller man had left for America. Questions raised in everyone’s mind as Haru whispered, “That just doesn’t sound like him.” The silence slowly sank around them again.

Concerned eyes turned to Makoto, but he waved his hand and smiled at them. “Let’s not talk about the past anymore. Let’s focus on the present and making sure you win that gold.”

Rin rolled his eyes, slowly letting his words go. Seijuro laughed aloud and Haru just smiled.

“Of course we’ll get that medal,” said Rin with a confidence Makoto had never been able to match. He was happy some things never changed. He pulled his legs up, dried them off and rolled his jeans down.

“I have to go to work,” he said as he waved at his friends. Everyone bid him goodbye and watched him go. The pool was quiet after he left, everyone lost in their own thoughts, and Makoto left trying to ignore his own.

x

The club was overwhelmingly busy, and Makoto was trying to keep his calm as he ran around from table to table. He barely looked at faces as he delivered drinks and food. The music was loud, and it was nice to be able to just ignore his thoughts and focus on the task before him.

Makoto’s shorts were rubbing him in all the wrong places, and he had to work hard to hide the twitch on his face as harsh material rubbed over sensitive bruises. He was still trying to convince himself it was an accident, but Kai had changed since the party. He’d dragged a lot of details from the past out of Makoto that night and then he’d relentlessly fucked him into his own mattress. Makoto had called out of work the next day because he’d been unable to walk, and even now, the bruises on his upper thighs and waist were ugly and painful. Thankfully his clothes hid everything well. He just had to deal with the pain.

He came up to a new table and introduced himself as their server, a faceless group of five men until a familiar face swam into view, and Makoto blinked in surprise.

“Seijuro,” he said with a wide smile, but Seijuro was looking at him like he’d wished Makoto hadn’t said a word.

“I didn’t know... you worked here,” he said finally, and Makoto was shocked until he glanced around at the rest of the faces. He recognized all of them as higher ups from the party, and one face at the end made his heart crash to his feet.

Sousuke sat staring down at the menu like he hadn’t even noticed Makoto’s presence. One of the other men, one of the Olympic coaches, Makoto thought, spoke up in a jovial voice and asked, “What a coincidence! Do you know Mikoshiba and Yamazaki?”

Gorgeous teal eyes shifted up at the mention of his name, first to the man who’d spoken, and then slowly over to Makoto, every second feeling like a year passing as Makoto became aware of many things: he was a waiter at a strip club, he wore skimpy outfits for said work, and currently, his knees were shaking and he was begging Sousuke not to look at him.

When those eyes finally settled on him, it was like no time had passed between them at all; Makoto was transported back to the past, and oh, how he wished he could just change it all. He pulled his lips into a smile but it felt fake and waxy, as Sousuke’s teal eyes seemed to know and see everything about him.

“Oh,” was all he said, the silence long and stretching.

They maintained eye contact until Makoto thought he couldn’t take it anymore, shifting his eyes away, cheeks burning red, damnit, as he choked out, “What can I get you all to drink?”

As he walked away on jelly legs with their drink orders, he realized absolutely that he still loved Sousuke with everything in him, but with it came the harsh reality that Sousuke would never be his now. Sousuke had someone who would treat him sweet, and Makoto had Kai.

Kai, who was sitting at the bar, watching Makoto approach with a look on his face that could kill a man, his eyes icy, his lips turned deeply down. Makoto’s legs nearly gave in, but he made it to the bar and gripped at it, afraid to look at Kai, afraid to feel pain.

Kai slowly turned in his barstool to face Makoto’s side, but when he spoke, his voice was soft, albeit patronizing. “Makoto, I see you have important guests at my usual table.”

Green eyes darted over to Kai’s face. He was smiling, but there was no emotion in his eyes, and when his hand came to rest against Makoto’s back, it felt cold and heavy. Still, Makoto turned to curl against Kai, the man accepting him easily between his legs and in his arms.

“I’ll be good,” Makoto promised. Fear struck him and he let out a small, “Please, Kai...”

Kai shushed him, gave a soft laugh like Makoto was being silly. He petted at brunet hair. “It’s okay, darling. It’s your job, so there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Makoto nodded, trying to believe Kai’s words, smiling to show he did. He handed his order off to Rei, whose eyes didn’t miss a thing, but he was silent as he made his drinks. The tray was heavy in Makoto’s hand and on his shoulder, and Kai let him go in silence, eyes following.

Makoto somehow made it to the table, bending to a knee to set down the tray, standing again to divvy out drinks. Sousuke’s was last, a jack and coke, and it was odd to Makoto that a year and a half ago, Sousuke hadn’t even been legal, but now here they were. Time seemed to mean nothing when he was beside Sousuke, and he wished their reunion had been so different. He wished Sousuke would smile at him and tell him sweet things, that he would have come back to Makoto’s side like no time had passed at all. Makoto wished so many things were different.

Sousuke put his hand out for his drink, Makoto so lost in thought that he couldn’t react fast enough. The cup banged into Sousuke’s palm, a small bit of his drink spilling over onto his hand. Makoto yelped, dropping the glass to the table with a small ding, reached for anything he could to wipe up his mess.

“I’ll be right back,” he stuttered, but Seijuro was handing Sousuke some napkins from the center of the table calmly, and Makoto froze, so embarrassed. He awkwardly took a handful of napkins and patted at the table under Sousuke’s hand, feeling useless, a waste of space. Seijuro cleared his throat to get Makoto’s attention and smiled.

“It’s okay,” he said kindly. “Thank you for the drinks. We still need a minute to decide if we’d like some food.”

Makoto nodded, too fast and too jumpy, grabbing up his tray and holding it like a shield against his body. He shuffled off, avoiding Kai’s eyes as he tried to keep himself busy with his other tables. He couldn’t handle Sousuke and Kai at the same time; his mind was unraveling. He was scared of what tonight would bring.

He was afraid.

He continued to make a bumbling fool of himself in front of Sousuke, spilling sauce, tripping on air. Sousuke never said a word and barely seemed to notice, Seijuro trying so hard to calm Makoto down as he seemed to be spiraling into madness, and Kai’s gaze never left Makoto, like a hawk watching his prey. By the time the club closed and Makoto was in the break room, he was on the edge of tears.

Kisumi softly smacked his hand to Makoto’s back as he passed the other man, and that was the last straw. Makoto burst out into sobs, and everyone around him froze. Nagisa had never moved so fast; he flew to Makoto’s side and grabbed the man’s arms in his hands.

“What happened? Who hurt you?!”

Rei was calmer, quietly calling him boyfriend’s name. “It was a busy day,” he said softly, but Nagisa shook Makoto again, trying to pull away the hands that covered Makoto’s face.

Kisumi was the one who got Nagisa to stop with a firm, “Leave the poor thing alone, Nagisa.”

The blond’s hands dropped away and he went oddly silent. Kisumi rubbed at Makoto’s back, guiding him to the couch.

“Do you need a place to stay tonight?” asked Rei quietly. Makoto wondered how much he’d guessed already, but he didn’t say anything else. Pleading eyes looked up at Rei; _Don’t tell anyone. I’m fine._

“No,” he said quietly. “I need to go home.”

Rei nodded, pulling Nagisa silently to their lockers. Kisumi was quiet, simply rubbing at Makoto’s back until he quieted down.

“If anything is ever the matter, you know you can come to us. We’re your family, Makoto.”

Makoto’s lips trembled, the words meaning more than he could say. He nodded, all the while knowing he would never bother his family with his problems again. Still, he smiled at Kisumi. “Thank you. I’m okay.”

Makoto was the last to shuffle out of the door, Kisumi watching from the back door in concern as Makoto walked with his head down. Makoto stopped in a wash of relief outside the door, the owner locking it behind him. The alleyway was empty. Everyone filed out past him, parting with goodbyes and “Be safe”s. Makoto walked to the end of the alley and tried to take a deep inhale of cool, nighttime air. A car rolled up from a few feet away and a window rolled down. The relief he’d felt was gone.

“Get in the car, Makoto.”

Kai’s voice was cold. Makoto obeyed even as fear seized him. “We’re going home.”

Kai parked in front of Makoto’s building, circled the car and hauled Makoto out, the grip on his wrist painful. Makoto winced but dared not say a word. He couldn’t help but think it must be that he deserved this. He’d made a fool of himself tonight, made a fool of Kai in the process. He lowered his head and silently accepted what was to come with fear choking his throat. The door shut and Kai was on him, tearing away clothes, grabbing at the back of Makoto’s hair to pull him into a teeth-knocking kiss.

“Fuck,” cursed Kai loudly as he pulled away for a moment. He looked down at Makoto, who was trembling in his grip, before pulling him by the hair to Makoto’s bedroom. Somewhere in the corner of the living room, a ball of orange fur sat ready to pounce, hissing silently as she watched helplessly. Makoto shook his hand at Peanut as they passed, before the door shut decisively on the rest of the apartment, and Makoto’s fate was sealed. He was tossed to the bed, a bottle of lube smacking his ass.

“Prepare yourself. I wanna see.”

Makoto’s hands shook as he opened the cap and squirted too much onto his fingers. The gel was cold, and Makoto trembled, his ass in the air. He gently pulled down his lace panties, his bruises aching but he had no choice. His ass was still sore from a few nights ago. He tried to tread gingerly, but Kai huffed impatiently at him. With trembling hands, Makoto tried as best as he could, quickly and gently, to prepare himself, but he was never given enough time. His hand was yanked away after only a few minutes, wrenched painfully behind his back.

“You’re hurting me!” he yelled without thinking. A hard smack rang through the room, Makoto’s ass lighting up with incredible pain. He sobbed out a cry. Kai pulled his arm harder, Makoto dissolving into the sheets in tears. He disconnected from it all as Kai shoved his cock inside Makoto. The man beat his ass over and over as he grunted out, “Remember who the fuck you belong to when you flirt with other men. I don’t ever want to see that again.”

“Sorry, sorry, Kai,” Makoto sobbed into his sheets. His hair was pulled again, his neck snapping back as his head was wrenched up, and Makoto’s shoulder and chest screamed in pain at the position. He had no room to lessen the stress on his upper body. His lower parts throbbed in unimaginable pain, and all Makoto could think was that he _must_ deserve this, he must need to be punished in this way. Why else would Kai do it? Kai who loved him, Kai who could be so sweet. It was Makoto’s own shortcomings that had brought them to this point.

“I don’t like doing this to you,” Kai hissed, and Makoto felt a wave of shame wash over him. Yes, this was all his own doing. He slowly quieted down and accepted it numbly.

“Yes,” he whispered in defeat. “I’m very sorry, Kai.”

He probably passed out at some point. Kai grunted with pleasure when he came inside Makoto, huffed as he shuffled off the bed and buckled up his pants.

“Don’t ever let me see you do that again,” were his last words before he walked out. Somewhere, Peanut hissed.

 _What?_ Makoto wondered. He tried to wrack his brain for specifically what he’d done wrong. Had he smiled too much at Sousuke? Was it because he was frazzled and made a fool of himself? Makoto sank slowly to the bed, nothing left in him to go and clean himself out. He’d regret it in the morning, but his body refused to move. New bruises were already forming; Makoto could feel them. His ass wept more than lube and cum. He cried because he loved Kai and he had hurt the man. He cried because he loved Sousuke more.

Peanut pressed against his face and Makoto gave a weak smile.

“Hello, beautiful,” he whispered before another flood of tears came. The cat simply curled against his face and absorbed Makoto’s tears in her fur.

It was kindness Makoto barely deserved but desperately needed. He fell asleep with a heavy body and heavy mind.

x

Nagisa was staring at Makoto as he awkwardly adjusted the bracelet he wore on his wrist to hide the ugly bruise forming. The finger marks were so clear that there was no hope of Makoto explaining it away. He’d dug up a fabric cuff bracelet Gou had made for him one year for his birthday, and though it looked awful with his outfit and it hurt a bit on his tender wrist, it hid the purple bruise well. But Nagisa wasn’t happy with the change, though he didn’t say a word about it. His eyes spoke volumes, however, judgement at Makoto for his horrid fashion sense suddenly and a wild curiosity that was barely contained. Blessedly, their boss came in then to tell them to hustle their butts and get on the floor to open the club.

The night was uneventful, but Makoto was especially jumpy. Every person who called his name got a wide eyed look from the brunet, and everyone was starting to give him funny looks in return. He’d smile wide and laugh it off, but his heart was racing.

He didn’t want to see Kai. He didn’t want to see Sousuke. He barely wanted to see Haru or Nagisa. Seijuro might be the only person he’d be okay with seeing, just for the fact that his presence was soothing with no need for words.

By the time 3 am rolled around, Makoto was practically in cardiac arrest, and there was only one thing he could think of to calm him. Seijuro would be up; he was a night owl. With his hands cupped around the speaker of his phone, huddled in his light jacket, he listened to the line ring.

“I’m sorry,” were the first words out of his mouth when a tired voice answered.

He could almost hear Seijuro’s smile as he realized who it was. “Makoto. Don’t apologize.” Makoto hopped from foot to foot, itching.

“What’s up?”

“I want to swim.”

Seijuro went quiet for a moment, then he hummed softly. The sound of things moving in the background came through the speaker of the phone. “Okay,” was all he said, probably still smiling. Makoto’s heart leapt in excitement, picking up again with nervousness.

“Okay,” he whispered to the other, unsure now. No, maybe he should just-

“Meet me at the front door?”

With a racing heart, Makoto gave a small hum of agreement, and he hung up, hands shaking as he stuffed them in his jeans. The alleyway and street beyond were deathly quiet. He’d half expected Kai to come around the corner like he could sense Makoto up to no good, but there was no one there. He hustled, feet moving fast. It was a few miles to the aquatic center; he moved as fast as he could until his lungs burned and his legs ached from lack of exercise over the last nineteen months.

Just outside the center stood a tall figure, standing proudly in a jersey and grey shorts, his shock of orange hair the most visible part of him. Makoto picked up his pace again, until he slowed to a halt in front of Seijuro. He shut his eyes as a hand reached out, reflexive now, but Seijuro just ruffled his hair fondly.

“I’m sorry it’s so late,” whispered Makoto, but Seijuro smiled big, earnest. “I’m just really glad you’ve made up your mind.”

He opened the door and guided Makoto inside. Just outside the pool area, he reached for light switches, but Makoto let out a choked sound. The pool was dimly lit from the glass in the ceiling, the stars and moon shining down on the dark water. It was so peaceful, and Makoto had things to hide.

“Can you... leave the lights off? I want to swim... just like this.”

Seijuro pulled his hand back, a little confused, but nodding regardless. It was so quiet in the big space. Even the water was silent.

“Do you need jammers?”

Makoto hadn’t even thought of it. He spun around, ready to call it off again, but Seijuro had his hand out, smiling knowingly.

“Don’t back out now. I brought you a pair of my old ones.”

Makoto grabbed at them thankfully with two hands. He scuttled to the locker rooms and stripped in the darkness, but even after so much time, it was second nature. The swim jammers were a little long, but they fit okay, even on Makoto’s skinny legs. He ran his palms down the front of his thighs and he frowned. He wouldn’t be able to swim like he had before, and he was worried about being seen with bruises and so skinny, but Seijuro hadn’t ever known Makoto in his prime, and he was kind enough to not speak of things Makoto wasn’t ready for. He hugged his arms around his small frame and shuffled shyly out to the pool. Seijuro was already in, swimming lazy laps. He slowed and began to float as he saw Makoto approach. His anxiety levels were shooting through the roof, but Seijuro calmly beckoned him in.

He sat at the edge, dipping his feet in. The water was warm, and it seemed to pull him in. It soaked up into his jammers and crawled up his legs. He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes and begging for this to work. Then he slipped into the pool, down to the very bottom.

It was so goddamn peaceful. It always had been. Makoto’s go-to place had always been on the floor of the pool at Iwatobi, or at their swim club when they were kids. There was nothing like being enclosed in water, the way sound didn’t even transfer. It was still beyond silence, something that curled around his very soul and eased any sorrow or ache.

Makoto felt a peace that his being could never truly forget, but his anxieties had nearly overwritten. He didn’t need to swim, really, he just needed this quiet place that was all his own. Above him a shadow moved as Seijuro swam alone, leaving Makoto. His lungs began to burn, but he stayed curled up there until the very last moment, pushing himself back up to inhale deeply of cool night air. Seijuro watched him, golden eyes just above the edge of the water. He was waiting for something. Makoto sank his hands through the water, up and down, side to side, slowly so he didn’t move. He shut his eyes and remembered. This, too, would never truly leave him; swimming would always be a part of his soul.

He opened his eyes and looked at Seijuro. “Don’t tell Rin or Haru.” Seijuro nodded, wading now, waiting still.

Makoto turned and clutched at the bottom of the diving platform, tried to pull himself up. He was lighter, but weaker, and he collapsed pitifully back to the water. He sank down again, turning, trying to recall. His hands reached out; how had he felt when he’d launched off from his hold on the platform before? It was exhilarating, that first plunge into the water, on the heels of someone else. Slowly, slowly, he mimicked what he remembered. It was slow, cumbersome. The water weighed tons suddenly. His arms ached. His legs were stiff and his back hurt. He rushed up for air and gasped. Seijuro was still where he’d last seen him, quiet. He didn’t ask any questions as he slipped through the water towards Makoto. He took Makoto’s hands in his own big ones and gave a powerful kick, just one.

Makoto let out a choked sound as water coursed over his skin. Memories rushed back. He could almost hear Rin being obnoxious, Haru’s quiet splashing as he swam. He could almost see Haru swimming beside him. He slowly lowered his head into the water. Seijuro gave another kick, pulling Makoto along. Another, another. Makoto was crying into the pool; he lifted his head and turned it to breathe, force of habit even after all of this time. And Seijuro pulled him, faster and faster, so strong and powerful in the water. Makoto had been like that once, but even if his body had still been in peak condition, his heart wouldn’t be in it.

He cried for the things he had lost. He cried for his mom and dad, for his friendship with Haru and Rin, for Sousuke, for his own self-respect. He cried for the things he couldn’t change, the things he was too weak to fight against. He cried for the memories and the aches in his body that were so new, but already wearing him down, becoming something he was used to. He cried as his heart broke inside the only place he’d fallen in love, with water and with a man.

Everything was gone. Nothing remained of his loves; his body and heart were both giving up. He was too weak to not let it happen. As Seijuro pulled him, he cried, because he was weak now. He wasn’t even half the man he’d been before.

He was barely half of himself anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kai’s starting to show his true colors now 🥺


	7. The Question “Why?”

Compared to the Mikoshiba Aquatic Center, the place where the Olympic swim team practiced was enormous. Makoto nearly got lost, and he’d practically grown up in the halls of an aquatic center. But this place went beyond compare. The pool area had four Olympic-sized swimming pools, all heated for winter, big windows showing a beautiful view outside, but everyone today was focused on what was happening inside.

Makoto stood awkwardly on the sidelines as he watched swimmers with fantastic bodies mill around, unsure of where to go or what to do with himself. He huddled in his light jacket and jean shorts, trying not to slip on the floor. He stood just outside the door, eyes darting nervously around. Rin had invited him, and Haru had said sweetly he didn’t have to come, but since Makoto had swam again with Seijuro, he’d been more invested than ever in Haru and Rin’s swimming. It felt nice to focus on his friends again. The bag he clutched to his chest, strap over a slim shoulder, was filled with energy balls and honey-soaked lemons.

“You came.”

Makoto’s head swiveled up with big eyes, happy to see Haru and Rin walking towards him. It was like a blast from the past, Rin poking Haru in the ribs with his elbow as they joked, wearing only jammers, their caps, and goggles around their necks. Haru’s eyes glanced down at Makoto’s bag, but he didn’t say anything.

“The bleachers are open seating, and I can tell you the best spot to sit.” Makoto nodded gratefully, peeking in again to the big pool area.

“You can access the bleachers from over here,” Rin said as he pointed behind himself, and Makoto was relieved to know he wouldn’t have to walk out into the crowded area beyond the door. Sousuke was there somewhere.

As if reading anxiety in Makoto’s green eyes, Haru said again, “If it’s hard for you-“

But Makoto turned and smiled, patting his bag. “I want to be here. I want to come as much as I can, to support my best friends.”

Rin was silent, his gaze averted to somewhere beyond the door, fixated, a faraway look in his eyes, but Haru was right there with Makoto. He nodded slowly, gauging if this was really a good idea, before eventually deciding Makoto was old enough to know what he could handle.

“We’ll see you later,” Haru said as the team coach called everyone inside, and he took Rin by the elbow, the redhead unaware of the other two’s conversation. Rin’s expression had been haunting, like the past had come back to taunt him. Makoto tried to shake off the eerie feeling; it resonated too deeply with his own feelings.

The bleachers were shockingly empty, and Haru quietly guided Makoto to the right spot with nods and little points this way or that. The whole pool area opened up below Makoto’s eyes and he had to blink back emotional tears. 

There stood his two best friends, amongst countless others, trainers, managers, coaches, swimmers like he had once been. A tall head of black hair bobbed quietly, earplugs in to drown out the voices, and it was comfortingly familiar; Sousuke hadn’t changed all that much either.

As the coaches assigned everyone to specific lanes in certain pools, a voice called out from behind Makoto as a hand lighted on his shoulder. Makoto felt something slimy crawl up his spine at the honey-sweet voice, at the icy hand on his skin. A lithe figure slid into the seat beside him without waiting for an answer, and Makoto stared in disbelief at Sousuke’s girlfriend. While he was dressed down and casual, she looked ready for a night out. She wore a black pencil skirt and a frilly blouse, opened too much at the top in an easy effort to show off enhanced tits. Her hair was glossy, long and curled, and her face was a little heavy on the make-up, her perfume cloying again. She smiled down at the scene before them like she wasn’t sitting next to her boyfriend’s ex.

“Makoto, right?” she asked with a smile plastered on her face, her eyes still focused on Sousuke below, watching like a hawk, smiling wide, but it wasn’t intended for him. He was shocked she’d remembered his name; had Sousuke mentioned who he was? Did Ayame know their whole story?

“Yes,” he choked out, thoughts racing.

“You must have other friends on the team. Since you were at the party as well.” 

Her cool tone didn’t match her big smile. She waved enthusiastically when Sousuke’s eyes drifted upwards, Makoto instantly sinking down and hiding behind his arm, desperate to be small. He tried to make sense of the hostility he felt from Ayame; it would be natural, but the only history they shared was because of their connections to Sousuke. Her words seemed like a double-edged sword. Was she trying to remind him Sousuke was dating her, not him? Or questioning whether he was allowed to be here?

He sat up suddenly and pointed down at Haru and Rin. “Those are my friends,” he said very pointedly, bold in the face of this woman like he could never be in front of another man. She made his blood boil. Still, when her piercing eyes turned to him, he sank down again, falling silent.

“Is that so?” she said slowly, her smile turning cold. She barely spared him two seconds of her time, before she was back to smiling and waving at Sousuke. As soon as he dove into the water, though, her whole countenance changed.

“Listen to me,” she said in a cold voice. “If you ever try to speak to Sousuke or influence him in any way, I will tear you to pieces. I will turn everyone you love against you. Sousuke sees nothing in you anymore.” Eyes snapped to the side, her lips curling up into a cruel, calculating smile. “Watch him rise to the top from your pitiful little hole of filth. Don’t ever think you can touch him again.”

Like a cold front had swept in and was quickly moving out again, she was once again smiling, standing now as she cheered for Sousuke. Makoto stood up on wooden legs and moved nearly to the other end of the bleachers, sitting above her line of sight, out of Sousuke’s. Haru’s eyes followed him. Sousuke’s gaze stayed rooted to where he’d been. Ayame’s words sunk into Makoto and tore him apart like her perfume did to his nose.

He hoped that she was sweet to Sousuke. He’d just do as he always had planned to and stay away. He was quiet as Haru and Rin swam, hiding his smile and tears behind two folded hands, too emotional over too many things to trust his voice, afraid to draw attention.

“Good job,” he husked afterwards, Rin standing before him, smug as can be as he dried his torso, Haru already wearing his jersey, his whole body still soaked. Makoto knew he would just go home like that; thankfully it was still warm out. As a distraction, as Rin’s eyes flickered and paused over his face, his grin falling, Makoto pulled out the snacks he’d brought with a smile. Voices droned on, echoing wonderfully through the pool area. It was easier to block things out for Makoto with something important to focus on, something that needed his attention. His heart swelled with pride as Rin dove with an excited yelp for his Tupperware of lemons. He chomped into one and moaned almost erotically. Haru just watched him as he quietly took a slice of his own.

“Rin, be decent,” he murmured as a few people turned to stare. Makoto smiled and waved at them awkwardly.

He was glad for the chance to feel useful, as he tried to forget the words Ayame had spoken to him, but he couldn’t help but let his eyes drift to Sousuke. Makoto wished he had the courage and “fuck a bitch” attitude to just walk over and offer the man a lemon, but instead he sat frozen, hands clenched atop his lap. The only thing that broke his focus was Haru sitting down beside him.

“Did she say something to you, Makoto?” he asked quietly, Rin still euphorically lost in his lemon wedge. Makoto’s head swiveled to look at his best friend with wide eyes.

He started to shake his head, but stopped. He stared silently off into a hazy distance as his eyes unfocused and his thoughts became muddled.

“Do whatever makes you happy, Mako,” Haru whispered quietly, and Makoto nodded, distant from this place. If only it was so easy; still he smiled at Haru as he pulled himself out of his emptiness and promised he was.

Haru’s expression was doubtful, but it was easy to miss with the minimal way his eyes changed. Rin was grabbing more lemon slices, either oblivious, or choosing to say nothing at all instead of ruining a moment. Makoto quietly offered Haru another lemon wedge, and Haru bent down to bite it from between Makoto’s fingers. He’d been like this a long time ago; Makoto wished his brain would stop going to the past. He blinked when something sweet and cool pressed to his closed lips. Haru waited expectantly.

“Eat,” he said, and Makoto gave a short nod and opened his mouth. The lemon was perfectly sweet and tangy. He gave a shaky smile to Haru, who licked his fingers as he turned to look out over the pool.

“We have to work harder than ever.”

Makoto nodded, knowing very well what was demanded from his friends at this level. “I hope you know how much your support means to us, Makoto.”

Rin hummed at Haru’s quiet words, and suddenly Makoto’s eyes were tearing up.

“I want to do what I can,” he whispered. “It’s not a lot. I wish it was so much more.” 

“Just...” hushed Haru. “Focus on your happiness.”

Makoto swallowed, but he forced out a smile, biting his lip to keep it from trembling.

“Yes,” he whispered roughly. He shoved his Tupperware at Rin to distract at least one of them. The two had grown too quiet, and quiet was Makoto’s enemy. He was too often alone with the silence.

“I’ll do my best.”

Haru gave a small shake of his head, but he offered no other comment. Makoto bit his cheek; despite all the years he’d known Haru, he was sometimes so hard to read.

Rin cleaned out his lemons and gratefully took the bag of energy balls. Makoto said his goodbyes and walked out into the hot, late summer air.

He wished he could so easily just decide what his happiness was, but there were too many factors out of his control to make his happiness a possibility. He was better to be appreciative of what he had; someone who loved him, friends who cared, and someone else to throw his time and emotions into aside from himself.

It was better this way.

x

Nagisa was smiling supportively from the front row in front of the stage, and Kisumi was right next to Makoto, trying to show the poor thing how to move his hips. When Makoto had asked them to teach him how to seduce someone, they’d both nearly laughed aloud, but had quickly sobered at Makoto’s determined expression. It was nearly 9, a few hours still until the club would open, and Kisumi was trying so hard not to show his frustration. They’d been at it for an hour already and Makoto still could barely even pass for “graceful”.

Before Kisumi busted a vein, Nagisa hopped up on the stage and pushed Makoto into a chair they’d used for a while as a prop. Makoto squeaked out a noise that made Nagisa croon, smiling as he pushed two fingertips into Makoto’s shoulder.

“Sit back and watch the master at work,” he grinned cheekily. “Rei!” he yelled into the club, his boyfriend appearing with a glass in hand, in the middle of drying it.

“Play me my favorite song,” he turned and grinned over his shoulder, Rei’s whole body suddenly showing his very keen interest on what was about to go down. He set his glass and towel down on a table, retrieving his phone from his pocket before sitting down. He leaned over and placed it on the stage, a song beginning to play at max volume from the phone’s small speakers. It was tinny, but Makoto recognized the song easily. They played it a lot in the club, and it was one of Nagisa’s favorite numbers to dance to. It must have played the first night Rei came to work at the bar; Makoto was jealous of the small things like this that the two shared, but soon he had no room for anything in his mind as Nagisa invaded his lap. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, shocked at first until he saw Rei smiling a small, private little turn-up of his lips. He couldn’t imagine Kai would ever let him do this; he probably wouldn’t like seeing what was happening right now.

But he had to learn how to dance; it was the only thing he could think of in an attempt to make Kai be sweet to him. He hated relying on random chance that Kai would be in a good mood. Lately, more and more things seemed to set him off. Haru said he’d seen someone who looked like Kai watching their practices.

It seemed impossible to think that Kai was threatened by Sousuke, since absolutely nothing would come from it now. Was he jealous of their past? His foul moods translated to bruises on Makoto’s body, growing ever deeper and more in number. He wished he knew how to assuage Kai’s worries and fears. Words didn’t seem to mean a thing to the man. Makoto was choosing to be more careful with his time instead.

The song slowly droned on, Makoto lost in the way Nagisa could move. When he was pulled up and asked to try again, he wasn’t sure at all how to replicate what he’d seen. Kisumi stepped up again, a hand around Makoto’s waist, pulling him to himself. Kisumi drew out a long breath, lashes shivering, and then he began to guide Makoto’s feet and hips to the rhythm of Nagisa’s song on repeat.

“I think you’re getting it,” said Nagisa proudly at one point, and Rei nodded in agreement. Makoto colored red, but he took Kisumi’s offered hands and slid away from him, the two dancing apart, hips gyrating and feet side-stepping this way and that.

“Good!” crooned Kisumi. He pulled his hands back and clapped, his hand lowering down as he swept it across the stage to the pole. “Wanna try?” he said with a devilish little grin.

Makoto paused and turned to look at the pole. He didn’t even know where to begin with that. Everything Kisumi or Nagisa, or any of the others, did seemed so complex and stunning that he doubted he could achieve it. Kisumi wouldn’t let Makoto have his moment of hesitation, strutting slowly to the pole as he called Makoto’s name.

“Watch me,” he whispered seductively, though his smile was genuine. He grabbed the pole high and walked himself around it. He dropped to a wide squat, slid back up with his ass high. He sashayed, he twirled, but his feet never left the floor, and when he beckoned Makoto over again, Makoto felt a little more confident.

He closed his eyes, tried to envision his body moving how he wanted, and slowly the music loosened him up. He might not have the confidence the other two had, but he had a deep desire to do something for the man he loved, and that was enough. Slowly the movements began to feel more fluid, more like he was swaying now. He opened his eyes to loud, enthusiastic clapping, Nagisa bouncing on his feet, hands over his gaping mouth.

“Makoto!” he yelped in shock. The brunet blinked at his friends.

Rei came to the rescue with a translation. He smiled. “It was good, Makoto. Very good.” He gave a thumbs up, pulling Nagisa in for a moment to kiss his temple before moving back to the bar with his glass and hand towel.

“You’ll be dancing with us on this stage in no time,” promised Kisumi as he nodded firmly.

“Oh my god, no!” Makoto yelped even as he laughed. He could never; his anxieties would destroy him before he’d even set foot on stage, and he was sure he’d have to get permission first from both Haru and Rin, not to mention Kai. 

Still, he was very grateful.

“Thank you both so much!”

He scurried off the stage when their boss came around to complain, practically skipping to the back room to change. He donned his usual outfit and made sure his make-up was still in place.

Surely, Kai would be inspired to be a little more tender with his lover tonight. 

x

Makoto couldn’t contain his tears. He held Peanut to his chest as he sobbed back-breaking cries into soft, orange fur. His body hurt terribly, but more than anything, it was his love for Kai that was tearing him apart. He missed Sousuke; he missed that man more and more every day. Sousuke had been cold and distant, but he had never, ever threatened to break bones or even bruise Makoto. His leg lay splayed out, throbbing so badly. It wasn’t broken, but it hurt like it was. Kai had enjoyed his lap dance and then taken his anger about something Makoto had no control over out on him still. Makoto felt hopeless; he couldn’t win.

When his phone rang though, and Makoto saw it was Haru, his own troubles, though they loomed, were easily pushed to the back burner. He shivered up and answered his phone with a smile that made his face ache.

“Haru!” he greeted, maybe too enthusiastic, but Haru didn’t seem to think it odd. 

Makoto petted at Peanut’s coat; lately Kai had started locking his cat inside the bathroom or closet when he came over, or simply taking Makoto to his own place. He claimed to be allergic, that Peanut was aggressive. Makoto didn’t recognize his cat when Kai came over. She would hiss and back into corners, showing teeth, eyes wild. Peanut would only calm down with Makoto’s pets and cuddles after. More than his own pain, Peanut’s anger and the abuse by his boyfriend tore him up inside. He felt so hopeless, but he knew what could make it better.

The ultimate distraction.

“Did you need help with something?”

Haru gave a sigh, probably rolling his eyes. “Stop worrying about me; maybe I just want to call my best friend.”

No, it was never that with Haru. Makoto felt his heart thrill. “Need to rant?” he asked with a laugh. Haru’s long pause of silence was answer enough. Makoto sobered up, but the feeling was so nostalgic. Makoto had always been the one to lend an ear or a helping hand; he wondered when he’d lost the ability to do that for a moment. But he could do it now; he could be a good friend for Haru.

“Are you thinking about things that happened in the past?” Makoto whispered softly. Last time they’d spoken, Seijuro had been concerned about Haru and Sousuke’s relationship and how it would affect the rest of the team. Haru had always worried too much about Makoto.

Haru was quiet still, but after years of knowing each other, Makoto could sense the shift in the air.

“Makoto, you deserve so much better, and I hate that... he treated you that way.”

Makoto laid down with his phone clutched in two hands, his pain slowly fading. Haru rarely opened up, so the fact that he was the one initiating this conversation meant it was really haunting him. He raised his phone again when he was ready.

“Haru, it’s not your fault. We were both young; we didn’t know better.”

Haru huffed, a very emotional sound from someone like him. Makoto pressed his lips together, scared to say too much. The truth was that thinking of Sousuke still hurt; it made his heart ache so fiercely that it sometimes felt unbearable. Makoto had to let Sousuke go, but some days that was harder than others.

“Makoto, he treated you badly. I wish you would admit it. I wish you’d tell him he hurt you and ask him, no, make him apologize to you.” A moment of silence, and then, “He makes me... so angry.”

Makoto’s eyes opened wide and he suddenly had no words to say. He wasn’t sure how he should feel. After a long, long while, Makoto whispered hoarsely, “It’s in the past.” The words themselves hurt, but he had to believe them. It wouldn’t do him any good to dwell on what could have been or had been.

“I’m with Kai now,” Makoto said with a big, shaky smile. He cried even as he said, “I love him, and he loves me.”

“But is he good to you? Makoto, you deserve the whole world!”

Makoto’s tears streamed down his face as he forced his smile to remain on, forced his voice to be even as he said, “He’s very good to me, Haru.”

Haru didn’t say anything for a while, and Makoto tried to focus on his breathing instead of the crushing weight of reality. He wanted to say he missed Sousuke, he wanted to run back to him. He wanted to beg for forgiveness and to be taken back. But it would be so wrong to Kai; he would never be unfaithful to him.

Kai loved him. He was just having a hard time.

When Haru finally sighed and said, “Okay. Good night, Makoto,” he had to imagine he felt a weight lifted even as it felt he might be crushed to death.

“Stay with me,” he wanted to beg. “You’re the only one I’ve got...” But he didn’t say a word, just wished his best friend a good night as well.

He dragged himself to his tub and sobbed into warm water. Peanut Butter, who hated baths, sat just at the edge of the tub, waiting patiently, worried. Makoto wrapped himself in a towel and scooped the cat up in two arms. His bed invited him in with promises to help him forget for a while.

He woke up to a sweet message from Kai. _I love you so much, Makoto. Sorry I was a little mean last night. I had a bad day._

 _Of course!_ responded Makoto with a big smile on his face. _I love you too <3_ _I’ll bring you something good._

Makoto smiled wider. His worries from yesterday seemed overblown. He should try to be less dramatic. He stiffly climbed out of bed and started his day slowly.

x

Nagisa and Kisumi flanked both sides of Makoto as they moved into the aquatic center, his two personal bodyguards decked out in sunglasses and ball caps and carrying too many flags and signs. Makoto had audibly groaned when he’d seen the two pull up on Nagisa’s yellow moped, but he’d just shaken his head and laughed. They were here to be his emotional support, and he should have known they wouldn’t take the job lightly.

Kisumi herded them to a spot at the front of the bleachers, in view of everything, and then the two of them had busied themselves setting up camp as Makoto had sat quietly, watching with his head down on the ledge, chin on his folded arms as he watched what happened down below. 

He couldn’t help but let his eyes follow Sousuke, who stood with Ayame. She wore high heels, which was ridiculously unsafe on the slick tile surface, and a casual business attire, with pixie cut slacks and a fluffy blouse that did nothing to hide her assets. She was basically preening Sousuke, fluttering about as she fixed his jacket or the goggles on his head like she was expecting a photo op for him. Makoto couldn’t help but think she looked more like his manager than his girlfriend…

They sat right beneath Makoto, and her voice rose up to his ears, words inaudible, Sousuke’s voice of course too low to hear. All he noticed were the pauses between when Ayame spoke. Her voice was annoying even this far away, and sometimes he would catch Sousuke zoning out. He found it a little funny, but he would feel bad if he actually laughed. He was sure... she was good for him, in a way he just couldn’t see. He was biased; of course he couldn’t see her good. Still, he frowned at her high tone and clipped words, at the expression on her face that was stern and demanding. Sousuke was either unconcerned, or ignoring her. Makoto wondered if she was always this high-strung.

Soon enough the coaches gathered everyone, and like the last time, assigned swimmers to certain pools. Unlike last time, Sousuke was assigned to the same pool as Haru and Rin, and suddenly the tension in the moist air rose. Haru went stiff and deathly silent, while Rin slipped into some kind of defensive position, eyes like a hawk on Sousuke.

Rin and Makoto had never been as close as he and Haru, but Rin had been very vocal about his anger towards Sousuke regarding his relationship with Makoto. Rin had taken Makoto’s side like there was not even a second thought in his head. He’d apologized, he’d cried on Makoto’s shoulder as he’d hugged the man nearly to death, and he’d promised that he wouldn’t let Sousuke just walk away from this like he had. At the very least, Rin would get Makoto an apology. 

He’d felt, at first, terrible for being the one to ruin a good friendship, but Haru had told him afterwards that Rin had fought for a long time for Makoto in regards to how Sousuke had treated him even when they were dating. Rin, though he liked to be tough and scary, and looked it most of the time, was the softest of them all on the inside, and it had torn him apart that his best friend hadn’t seen how he was tearing Makoto apart with his indifference.

Sousuke moved to stand in the lane beside Rin’s, and red eyes followed his every movement. Rin must have said something to him, because Sousuke slowly looked up and regarded his old friend. Rin’s hands and lips moved, and suddenly gorgeous aqua eyes were slipping up to look into the bleachers, searching for a moment. Makoto ducked down in wide-eyed panic before he was spotted, but he could hear Nagisa hissing at someone below. Signs and flags rustled and Makoto covered his face as he hid behind the wall in front of the bleachers. The whistle tore through the open area, and splashes resounded through the space.

“Get up, Makoto!” said Nagisa, Kisumi holding out a hand. When he stood and looked down, he heard Nagisa hiss again, a head of red hair whipping back around below them. Ayame had been trying to follow Sousuke’s line of sight earlier. If Makoto had hoped to survive this day unembarrassed, he was very soon proven wrong as Kisumi and Nagisa counted off, and suddenly they were waving their anti-Sousuke flags and signs and chanting, “Sousuke, you suck, and our two boys will prove it~! Haru and Rin, beat his frickin’ ass~!”

Makoto yelped out in wild dismay and sank immediately back down to a huddling squat. There was no one else there aside from the coaches and a few family members by the pool, but it was still too many people witnessing this. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. It wasn’t like he hated Sousuke, but it seemed all of his friends had very strong opinions. He didn’t hate Sousuke, but slowly he was realizing that he had been more hurt than he’d ever admitted to himself. He might have never realized it if Sousuke hadn’t come back, either. 

Makoto let out a shaky laugh, tears in his eyes. As the practice wore on, Nagisa and Kisumi ditched their hats and glasses and offensive signs and songs, and as they cheered Haru and Rin on recklessly, they pulled Makoto back up and poked him in the ribs until he was yelling out soft, random words of encouragement.

It was exhilarating. It was everything he’d missed about being the one in the stands while his friends were in the pool. He’d never known this feeling, but now he understood why his mom’s face had always glowed after every single one of Makoto’s matches. There was nothing like the thrill of thrusting all of your love and support onto the people he loved the most, knowing and watching them succeed. By the end, Makoto was yelling with his friends, waving small pom poms in the air, cheeks red. When Rin climbed out of the pool at the end, the coaches calling for the end of their practice, he beamed upwards and threw them two thumbs up. 

Sousuke looked more sober than usual, aqua eyes slipping almost jealously up to where the Haru and Rin cheering squad stood. Makoto didn’t even have a chance to react before the man stalked off to where Ayame stood. Makoto’s cheeks burned red with wild embarrassment, and he watched as Ayame jumped on Sousuke and looked beyond ecstatic. He had swam well; Makoto hadn’t missed how close the three of their times were. As Ayame fussed over Sousuke, who looked like he couldn’t care less, aqua eyes kept drifting up to the bleachers, but Makoto was already being pulled down to meet Haru and Rin outside the locker rooms.

“I have to use the bathroom,” Makoto whispered in a flurry of excited voices, Nagisa and Kisumi barely acknowledging that he was sneaking off quietly in their adrenaline-fueled happiness. Beyond the locker rooms and pool area, the center was quiet, and Makoto was watching the floor tiles beneath his feet, barely paying attention.

A voice caught his ears and he slammed to a halt, just around the corner from what he thought must be a little sitting area with vending machines; he could tell by the familiar whirring and plop of snacks being dropped. Someone else popped open a bottle of something, probably Pocari Sweat if it was Sousuke.

“Sou, darling, you could have done much better, but you’re getting distracted by meaningless things. I told you in the beginning how much you’d have to hyper-focus on your goal. There’s no need to worry about the people in your past. They’re only hindrances.”

If Sousuke said anything, it was too soft for Makoto to hear, but likely, he’d said nothing. Still, Ayame continued.

“You know I hate to speak bad of other people, but I’ve seen many people with so much potential get dragged down by people like your ex. It was a bad life choice, Sousuke, and you need to accept that he was more than likely just with you for what you could accomplish.”

Still Sousuke said nothing, and the silence tore Makoto apart more than he could ever admit. He fisted his hand over his mouth, tears burning, but he couldn’t move, lest he be discovered.

“You told me you didn’t love him, and I’m sure he didn’t really love you either, so just forget about him and focus on your future! You know I’ll do anything to help you achieve your dreams, darling.”

How bitter. Being in the Olympics hadn’t really been Sousuke’s dream to begin with, but one he’d shared with all of them, and especially Rin. Before, he had never wanted to do it alone, and yet here he was, letting this woman tell him he was better by himself. Makoto had so many words in his head, but his heartbreak clouded them all. He wished he could ask Sousuke what his dream was; was it really to go at the Olympics all alone? Was it really Ayame and not... him? Had he really never loved Makoto? No, he’d never said he had, had he... Makoto smiled bitterly behind his hand.

More than anything, he was truly happy for Sousuke, but he was also so, so sad for him. His best friend had turned his back on him because of Makoto, and maybe he was even partially to blame for Sousuke’s injury. He was certainly to blame for the sad state of affairs Sousuke had returned to. Makoto stayed deathly silent as Ayame told Sousuke to finish his drink and cool down, her high heels tapping away. Silence so dark followed her absence, and Makoto wanted to step out and say so many things, but he had no right. Ayame was wrong, of course; he’d never _meant_ to slow Sousuke down, but maybe it had happened because of him anyways. Either way, as Sousuke’s ex, he had no right to speak to the man and offer kind words or help.

When he heard a familiar, deep voice call his name, he thought at first he was dreaming, but when his head whipped around, he found Sousuke calmly standing before him with a bottle of Pocari Sweat in one hand, his other stuffed into his jacket pocket. His hair was slicked back, cap and goggles stuffed into his other pocket. His jacket was open, and it showed a sliver of creamy, toned abs. He filled his jammers well, too. Makoto startled, eyes darting up and then away.

“Sorry,” he husked as he tried to move away, but his legs gave out and he slumped down to a bench beside himself. Sousuke remained where he was, quiet. His eyes watched Makoto like he was trying to figure out a lot of things.

“Why did you quit swimming?”

The question seemed so out of left field that Makoto thought he’d imagined it again. He blinked wide at the tile floor, unmoving in fear that this wasn’t real.

“You could have been on the team before.”

Makoto gave a self-deprecating little smile, looking up. “With you, Haru, and Rin? No.” His smile wobbled, but he held it. He slowly, discretely tried to take in Sousuke’s face. He really did look good, better. He’d grown up well in the nearly two years he’d been gone.

Sousuke’s lips pulled into a confused little frown. “But it was your dream,” he said, something between a question and a statement.

Makoto smiled again, a sad thing, gaze slipping down to his hands now, folded in his lap. “Some dreams are best handed off to those more capable to achieve them. I chose my own path, and my duty now is to cheer on my friends, to watch them succeed where I failed.”

“But why did you stop swimming?” Sousuke insisted suddenly, taking a quick step closer to Makoto, who looked up with wide eyes. Sousuke halted at the look in his eyes, fear, pure and simple, and he blinked in confusion. This was not the Makoto he’d left behind. Even broken, that Makoto had been stronger. 

Sousuke pressed his lips together, not saying a word, though, as he watched Makoto lean away, hiding shaking hands and biting a trembling lip. Sousuke slowly took a step back again.

“Why, Makoto?” he asked softer, trying to be calm, but there was an edge to his voice that spoke of how desperately he wanted an answer. But Makoto couldn’t say a thing; he had no good answer to give. The fact was that he’d been weak, that Sousuke had broken him completely, and that he hadn’t known how to pick himself back up, nor had he wanted to. 

He couldn’t tell Sousuke that he’d wallowed for months in sadness, that he’d caused his parents to die because of his own selfishness. No, there were a lot of things that Sousuke didn’t know about the Makoto before him now. It was better this way, Makoto told himself. He stood up and slowly turned away.

“Sorry, Sousuke,” he whispered before he fled. “If anyone was meant for this team, it’s you. I’m glad you didn’t give up.”

Makoto had given up because of sadness, where Sousuke had persevered through pain. They weren’t even on the same level anymore. Makoto lowered his head as he walked away, leaving his love on the pool floor.

It would be better this way; his heart was beyond repair now anyways. 

Abandoning it almost seemed healthier than trying to make sense of what could have been.

He rejoined Nagisa and Kisumi, who looked him over, worry stealing their smiles and words away. The five of them were quiet as they stepped out of the aquatic center. They had plans for lunch, but Makoto quietly bid them all a goodbye. He wasn’t in a state to be a good friend, and he wouldn’t steal the joy from the others. He walked home with his head full of too many thoughts and his eyes down.

Life would just stagnate for Makoto from this point on, and perhaps he deserved it.


	8. Darkness Comes

“What’s this?” asked Makoto with an amused but confused expression as he poked a finger at the obnoxiously wrapped box sitting on Kai’s kitchen table. The man just turned and grinned at him, and Makoto thrilled. “What is it?!” he asked with more excitement. Kai chuckled.

“Go ahead, baby, open it.” He walked towards Makoto, putting a hand on his hip, smiling sweetly. Makoto looked up with excitement, leaning up on tippy toes to kiss his boyfriend.

“Is it for me?”

Kai rolled his eyes. “Of course it is. Open it.”

Makoto’s hands shook with excitement as he turned to the table, grabbing up the box and trying to gently remove ribbons and bows and paper. Kai tapped his foot impatiently, but Makoto smiled at him and continued on. Finally, a lingerie box sat on the table before them, and Makoto thought he might cry. He felt bad thinking some of the things he’d been feeling about Kai and their relationship lately. He opened the box and stared with wide eyes at black and dusty rose frills, at cat ears and a tail.

“What’s this?” Makoto asked excitedly as he stared in wonder at the box before him. Kai stepped up behind him and wrapped strong arms around his slim frame, resting his chin on Makoto’s shoulder.

“It’ll be Halloween soon, and I got invited to a party. Plus, I thought it’d be a fun thing to try out in the bedroom.” A tender kiss was placed to Makoto’s neck, and he shivered with delight. He gingerly lifted out the maid dress from the box, almost looking too small, but Kai assured him it would fit. Had Makoto lost that much weight? He smiled either way at the gift. He’d never had the courage to wear something like this, to work, or a costume party. But with Kai by his side, he knew he could be proud of himself when he wore the outfit.

“Wanna try it on, baby doll?” Kai purred, and Makoto hugged the dress to his body and nodded eagerly.

His mint panties didn’t match, but that didn’t matter as the feel of silk slid over his skin, zippers pulling fabric taut. He turned to look at himself in Kai’s full-length mirror, and he could hardly believe it was him. He looked tiny, his legs slim and arms thin, and in the form-fitting dress, Makoto really noticed how much weight he’d lost. He grabbed at the bottom of the skirt as anxieties arose, disappointment in himself. Kai stepped up behind him like he sensed it and tipped the other’s chin up, his kiss sweet.

“Darling, you look marvelous.”

In a moment of weakness and true vulnerability, Makoto let his guard down and sniffled, turning back to the mirror as he lifted the skirt to his chest, staring at himself.

“Kai, I’m wasting away...”

The room was dead silent, and Makoto couldn’t even look up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. His booming voice broke the silence and Makoto felt fear like an ice pick chisel away at his sanity.

“Nonsense.”

Makoto’s green eyes slid to meet Kai’s in the reflection of the mirror, his own wide. Kai was smiling that fearful smile of his, and when he grabbed around Makoto’s waist, Makoto was petrified. But Kai was sweet as he leaned in and whispered, “My dear, you’ve never looked better.”

A chill ran down Makoto’s spine, but Kai’s words were comforting, an escape from reality, and he leaned back against his strong boyfriend. Kai held him, warmth exchanged between them. Kai was different, but he was sweet. 

Makoto yelped when he was scooped up and taken to the bed, carried like a princess. Kai kissed his whole body, enjoyed Makoto in the maid’s outfit, and made love to him for the first time in a long while. He still gripped Makoto’s wrists a little tight, but maybe Makoto was just becoming too frail. 

He sat in front of Kai’s mirror as the man snored on his bed, knees bent and protruding from under the skirt, bony and thin. The red marks on his wrists would soon be bruises, the hickeys on his skin the only proof that Kai had loved him tonight. Makoto felt horrible for not feeling the afterglow, or the happiness from months ago. He was growing stale, he thought. He pulled out the last piece of the costume, little white cuffs, and he pulled them over his tender wrists. He looked at himself in the mirror and tried to see what Kai saw, but all he saw was a broken mess. He looked at Kai behind him, smiling again. If he couldn’t be happy with himself, he’d look at Kai and feel happy. 

Despite his flaws, he was good to Makoto. He took care of him. It was more than he could have ever hoped for. 

x

Halloween night came, and Makoto found himself gingerly trying to cover up a black eye with make-up. Kai hadn’t meant to hit him so hard, but he’d been angry when he’d smelled the chlorine in Makoto’s hair. The pool was still offering Makoto peace, and Seijuro offered no judgement and only kind words; he couldn’t explain that to Kai, though, so he took the punishment in silence. 

Kai came into the bathroom and smiled at his boyfriend, he himself dressed in an illegal little naughty cop uniform. He looked good; his thighs were thick and cut, his pecs showing. Makoto looked back at himself and slowly stood, fixing his own dress. Make-up was making him feel right as rain lately, and when he looked at himself, he wasn’t so disgusted. He tugged on thigh- high socks and hooked them to his garters, wearing a small lace thong under his short skirt. His tail hung over the skirt, pinned beneath the big bow at his waist, and the last touch were the ears that matched. Makoto stuck them on his head, hiding the headband in his loose brunet hair, smiling at who he saw in the mirror. He looked... cute. He had forgotten it was possible. 

“Oh, darling,” murmured Kai, his voice low and smooth. Makoto turned towards him and gave a shy smile as Kai collected him into his arms. “You look breathtaking.” 

Makoto wrapped his arms around Kai’s beefy shoulders and smiled happily, pressing his face to Kai’s neck. “I love you,” he whispered even as his eye throbbed. Kai patted his ass under the skirt. 

“I love you too,” he responded with a big smirk. He pulled back and kissed Makoto deeply, pulling at his ass cheeks to bring him closer. “Ready?” 

Makoto pulled back and nodded, one last glance in the mirror. He waggled his tail as he walked, slipping on a pair of black heels, Kai slipping a coat over his shoulders. Makoto warmed, and he clung to Kai as they walked down to his car. 

The party was being held at a private club, one that could be reserved for large parties. It was nearly a thirty minute drive away, but the place was gorgeous, with sprawling grounds and a renovated building in the middle. It was huge. 

Cars were parked everywhere, men in suits guiding the cars to open spots, and Makoto had forgotten to ask who was throwing the party, and who was invited. It was too late now; Kai parked and swept around the car to help Makoto out, pushing the coat off his shoulders, ready to parade Makoto inside. 

Makoto kept his eyes up, knowing one glance down would make him see all of his imperfections, so he decided to focus on Kai. His boyfriend greeted the front door man and told the man his name. 

“Sir, and his guest,” said the man after he’d checked Kai’s name was on the list, “This way, if you please.” 

With rising excitement, Makoto let out a soft noise of appreciation as he linked his hand through Kai’s arm and followed the other two inside. The space opened up through double doors, tables everywhere, food and drinks and people mingling. It was overwhelming, but the music coming from the speakers was enough to drown out Makoto’s anxieties of the night. Whoever had been in charge of decorating had done a fantastic job, with spooky lights and bats and spiderwebs. The lighting was low, lights in orange hanging from the ceiling and strung around poles and tables. Makoto looked around with wide eyes, his hand slipping a little loose of Kai’s arm as he took it all in. 

“Boo,” said a flat voice behind Makoto, and he spun around with an excited yelp. 

“Haru!” he giggled. He hadn’t felt so happy in months. Haru gave him a tiny, crooked smile. He was dressed as a cop, nothing sexy about it at all, and Rin walked up in a matching prisoner uniform. He sighed when he saw Makoto. 

“Don’t laugh. Haru picked them out.” 

Makoto cracked a smile, and then he turned and tugged on Kai’s arm. He didn’t even think twice about it. A warm arm circled around his waist and he gave a happy little purr as Kai snuggled into his neck and hummed in question. He wondered if he imagined the way Haru’s eyes glazed over and Rin’s tone was flat as he said, “Hey, good to see you again.” 

Kai gave Rin a nod, glancing over at Haru, but no one said anything else. 

“I’m getting a drink,” Rin finally said as he dragged Haru off, casting an apologetic look over his shoulder as they went. 

“I don’t think your friends like me,” Kai said with an edge to his voice that made Makoto bite at his lip. 

“They just haven’t gotten to know you yet.” Makoto turned and smiled at Kai. “You didn’t tell me this was a party for the Olympic teams.” 

“You figured it out, huh?” chuckled the taller male. “You’re so smart.” 

Makoto huffed at his condescending tone, turned and headed for the drinks table, thinking Kai would go to mingle, but he followed right behind Makoto like a shadow. 

“Kai!” someone yelled, and three buff guys came up and high-fived him. 

“Hey, ‘s this that pretty girl you’re always talking about?” one of them joked, poking at Makoto. He turned around, blinked in confusion before turning to Kai, but Kai was laughing. 

“Yeah, this is Makoto.” 

They seemed decent enough as they shook Makoto’s hand, and he shrugged off the earlier joke as just that. He tugged self-consciously on his skirt and wondered how he looked to others. He was so used to it, being around Nagisa and Kisumi; no one batted an eye at boys in dresses or heels at the club, and Makoto had nearly forgotten there was a whole other world outside the small one he’d boxed himself in. Kai wrapped an arm around Makoto again and put a drink in his hand, leaning down until his breath was hot on Makoto’s bare neck. 

“Baby, stop fretting. You look perfect.” 

Makoto nodded, but he didn’t feel settled until he saw a familiar head of orange hair wading through the crowd. He jumped a little on his feet and yelped, “Seijuro!” 

The tension in the air around Makoto had never gone so tight, so quickly. Seijuro slid up to Makoto with a big smile, and suddenly Kai seemed to freeze up. Golden eyes cast a sideways glance, but Seijuro was all smiles for Makoto as he complimented his outfit and asked him about his day like they hadn’t just seen each other yesterday. All the while, Kai seemed to be winding up like a tightening spring, and Makoto felt unsure of what to do about it. 

Seijuro put his hand on Makoto’s arm and rubbed it, turning then to Kai, who was one match away from a house fire. Seijuro’s smile turned more calculating, eyes narrowing a little as he sized Kai up. Seijuro was taller, but Kai was wide. They stood still, but they seemed to be posturing to each other, and Makoto was stuck in the middle. 

“And who are you?” said Seijuro finally, knowing fully well who Kai was from everything Makoto had shared. 

“I should be the one asking you,” Kai said, every word biting. Seijuro grinned like he was enjoying just getting under the other’s skin. 

“Makoto’s friend. And you?” 

“I’m his boyfriend.” Icy eyes darted down to Seijuro’s warm hand on Makoto’s arm. “Don’t touch him.” 

Makoto was pulled roughly against Kai, his hand coming up to catch himself as he glanced at Seijuro. The other watched it calmly happen. His lips pressed a little tighter together as he looked back at Kai. 

“That’s fine. I hope you’re taking good care of him. Makoto is precious.” 

Kai actually growled then, a dog defending his possessions. Seijuro just shook a hand to calm the other down. 

“I’ll see you later, Makoto,” he said as he turned back to the brunet with a smile, walking back into the crowd. 

Makoto felt anger rise, and he turned to Kai and stared at him with wide eyes. “You can’t just scare off all of my friends-!” 

The look on Kai’s face stopped him cold. His words fell away in silence. Pain shot up Makoto’s wrist and he winced as Kai gripped it hard. 

“Don’t forget,” he threatened in a low voice, “who you belong to, Makoto. I can do whatever I want, because you’re _mine_.” 

In fear that seized his heart, Makoto pulled back, cowering as Kai’s hand snapped slightly back, but he let it fall like Makoto’s reaction was enough for him. The brunet turned and stormed off, more afraid now than anything, but he thought Kai wouldn’t do anything, not in public. He waded through the crowds to find Haru and Rin, and he slipped up beside them in silence. Both paused and looked at him, but neither said a word as the conversation continued. They were talking to a few other teammates, and while some of them looked at Makoto in concern or disdain, no one said anything. 

He pulled at his short skirt, wishing he could disappear. He downed the drink in his hand; he’d hoped tonight would be different, but Kai was getting clingier as the weeks went by. Makoto didn’t know how to say that it scared him, didn’t even know why it should. All he’d ever wanted was a boyfriend who was proud to call him that in front of others, to protect him and compliment him, buy him outfits and nice things... He tried not to be ungrateful, but he couldn’t help thinking maybe... 

Haru took one look at his face and pulled Makoto away from the crowd, walking him at a quick pace to the bathroom near the back. They stopped in the hallway, Haru pushing Makoto’s hair aside as he looked in great concern at his friend. 

Makoto tried to assure the other he was fine. “You’re pale as a ghost,” Haru cut him off, his frown deepening as he pressed his cool hands to Makoto’s hot forehead. 

“I’m going to go get you some water,” Haru said as he helped Makoto sit down on a nearby chair. Makoto dropped his head to his crossed arms, dizzy. He’d only had one drink... When was the last time he’d eaten? 

“Makoto?” 

The brunet looked up, his hearing fuzzy; he expected to see Haru, but instead a swimmy version of Sousuke stood there. His expression looked slightly concerned, or just confused. 

Makoto had to bite back a big smile, to call Sousuke’s name and sink forward towards him. Instead, he gave a wobbly smile. 

“Are you... okay?” Sousuke asked like he didn’t know if that was actually a sentence, not used to saying it. He looked around like he was trying to figure out from context clues what was happening. Makoto could only think, _god bless him, he was trying so hard_. In some ways, Sousuke had come so far, and in other ways, he was absolutely the same. 

“Makoto!” This time it was Seijuro. He rushed over and sank to his knees, Sousuke watching it all in silence, like he wasn’t part of this. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just don’t feel very good. I didn’t eat a lot...” 

A plate was set down almost angrily in Makoto’s lap, and he looked up blearily at Haru and Rin now beside him, both of them definitely not smiling anymore. 

“Eat it, Makoto. All of it.” 

Makoto nodded in the face of Haru’s command, picking up a cracker, biting at it. He ate slowly, but the more he ate, the hungrier he became, until he’d scarfed down the whole plate like he hadn’t eaten in years. When he looked up, everyone was watching him with wide eyes. 

“Oh,” he whispered as he self-consciously wiped at his mouth and down his chest. “Thanks,” he said to Haru. 

“What’s wrong with him?” asked Sousuke like Makoto wasn’t even there, and green eyes looked up, shocked, upset. Seijuro was just gazing up at Makoto, but Haru was looking at Sousuke like he had three heads. 

Rin crossed his arms and clicked his tongue. Teal eyes slipped to the redhead, and he stared for a long time at his old best friend. 

“I’m sorry,” he said abruptly, not much emotion in the statement, more like it was a neutral way to end the conversation as he turned and walked away. 

“Damn asshole-“ Rin clipped as he stormed after Sousuke, but Makoto yelped, “Don’t!” Red eyes whirled to Makoto’s face, and Makoto dropped his hand weakly. 

“Please, Rin, just let him forget about me. I’m nothing but a roadblock for that man now.” 

Rin stood where he had stopped like he’d been planted there, his lips working over words he couldn’t say. Finally, he stormed off, saying he was getting more food. Haru pressed a cup of water into Makoto’s hand as he took the plate off his lap. 

“Makoto,” he said in a quiet tone. “What’s been going on lately? You hardly talk to us anymore. What are you thinking?” 

Makoto turned his head away, tears coming. Seijuro was still crouched before him, and he slowly rubbed at Makoto’s knee. 

“I just want Sousuke to be happy, Haru, and it’s not possible if I keep showing up with my own problems in tow. He deserves to be happy and live a good life, to live out his dreams.” 

“But what about your happiness?!” 

Makoto shook his head, lips trembling up into a smile. “I’m okay. I’m happy.” He turned back and flashed a wide smile, shutting his eyes to keep the tears in. “I have Kai, after all. And you all.” 

“Kai is not-“ Haru began, but footsteps sounded down the hall and he ate the rest of his words. Makoto didn’t have the heart to hear it anyways. 

“Makoto, would you tell us if you’re not okay?” Seijuro asked softly, the first time he’d spoken in a long while. Makoto tilted his head up to the ceiling and blinked his tears away in a desperate effort to not have them rain down his face. His lips pulled tight together. Everyone was silent. 

“Of course,” Makoto lied so easily. He laughed, a sound thick with sadness and forced joy. “Of course I’d tell you guys.” 

“You’re not okay, Makoto!” Haru said, stepping forward, but Seijuro raised a hand to stop him. Haru frowned deeply, but he did stop, because he of all people knew Makoto the best of all. Makoto was stubborn to a fault, faithful to the bitter end. Haru, nor anyone else, would ever be able to force the truth out of him until Makoto was broken down and ready to tell it himself. And he wasn’t ready yet, because he was still clinging to a hope that Kai would get better, that he was just stressed right now. They’d be happy like they’d been in the beginning, one day. He just had to keep Sousuke out of it all, and ride it out. 

Rin came back with food, and they all sat in silence as Makoto slowly tried to eat the second plate, but his stomach was getting heavy, and his anxiety was building. 

“I’ll be okay,” he told them, waving them off with a smile. “Go enjoy the party.” 

Reluctantly, Haru and Rin walked back, Seijuro lingering for a moment. 

“Makoto, does swimming help you?” 

The brunet looked up in surprise, and he was shocked to see the pain in Seijuro’s face. He hadn’t thought the man would be so affected by him. 

“Does swimming with me help you, even just a little? I don’t know what else I can do.” 

For the first time in a long while, Makoto nodded and smiled genuinely. “Yes,” he answered honestly. “Thank you so much, Seijuro. I’ve relied on you a lot lately...” 

“It’s okay. I’ll always be there for you. You know where to find me.” 

Makoto nodded, reaching up to take Seijuro’s hand in his own, to squeeze it. The other held on to it, his hand slowly slipping down to Makoto’s wrist. He winced before he could hold it back, and Seijuro’s hand stopped, slowly loosening his hold but not letting Makoto’s hand slip away. He didn’t look all that surprised; he slowly pushed Makoto’s small, white cuff down, gold eyes drifting downward. He was quiet as he stared at the top of a purpling bruise. 

“Makoto, promise you’ll tell us if you’re not okay?” 

Seijuro was strangely quiet, his eyes distant. He looked so familiar with the situation, like he’d seen bruises like these a million times before. Maybe that’s why he didn’t force Makoto to say anything. Instead, he gently caressed his thumb over Makoto’s unblemished skin. 

“I’m okay,” Makoto lied again with a big smile. “It’ll get better. He’s just stressed.” The same words he told himself a million times. 

Seijuro looked up, his gaze so distant. He’d heard these words before too, hadn’t he, from someone else, a long time ago? Makoto wondered if back then Seijuro had insisted on the truth, if he’d hounded the other person to tell him what was going on. But now, now he was quiet. 

“Don’t tell Haru or Rin,” Makoto said with tears now flowing down. He felt like he’d said those words too much lately. His heart was breaking, not for himself, but for Seijuro. 

“Okay,” whispered Seijuro in defeat, his thumb still rubbing at Makoto’s wrist. “Just, if it gets worse-“ His voice broke. “Don’t let it get worse...” 

Makoto shook his head; it couldn’t get worse, could it? He doubted it would. Kai did still love him, so he wouldn’t _really_ hurt Makoto. 

Seijuro set Makoto’s hand gently back on his lap and nodded silently. He rounded the corner and Makoto heard him whisper a small, “Oh.” 

Slowly Makoto gathered himself, stepping into the bathroom to make sure his face looked presentable still. He straightened his cuffs. 

“So, you are swimming again?” 

Makoto looked up at the reflection in the mirror with wide eyes, looking back at Sousuke behind him. He gripped his cuffs in protection to his wrists, but Sousuke wasn’t focused on that. Seijuro’s voice had been too quiet near the end, right? 

“No,” Makoto whispered with a laugh. It couldn’t be called swimming. “I just like wading in the pool when it’s quiet.” 

He turned and smiled at Sousuke. 

“The water will always be a part of all of us,” he said with a small laugh, nodding as he dipped past the other like that was a good greeting. A hand reached out and grabbed at his arm, though, and Sousuke pulled him back to face him. 

“What happened to you, Makoto? You’re not swimming, you look like a skeleton-“ 

“I’m fine!” Makoto yelled as he lost his sanity for a moment. Too many people wanted answers he couldn’t give. “I’m doing just fine!” 

Silence fell, Sousuke’s face pulled tight, and Makoto amended, “Really,” he said with a heart aching smile, head tilting to the side a little. Sousuke’s face went slack, his hand dropping from Makoto’s arm. Silently, he walked out. Makoto collected himself, reminding himself it was just a period of weakness for Kai, he was stressed because of the new training for the Olympics... How many times did he have to tell himself that before it sunk in, he wondered. 

He walked out on shaky feet to find Kai, his steps too loud, very unsteady on his own. He felt like he was making a fool of himself as he tried to look for his boyfriend and not trip over his own feet. He finally found Kai sitting at one of the tables, and Makoto grabbed onto him just before he slumped forward. People were staring. Empty cups surrounded Kai, and his friends laughed and egged him on. He smelled like alcohol, and his eyes looked heavy. 

“Kai!” Makoto yelped in dismay. Sharp blue eyes snapped up to Makoto’s face, and Kai grinned devilishly. He grabbed Makoto’s face and pulled him into a deep, messy kiss. 

“Hey, you’re mine,” he slurred possessively as one of his hands slipped up the back of Makoto’s thigh. 

“Hey-!” 

His friends laughed, and Makoto turned to them as his face turned beet red. 

“We need to take you home,” he hushed to Kai urgently, but the man pulled him between his legs, unbelievably strong, and he closed his mouth over Makoto’s. His tongue slipped out wet against Makoto’s lips and the kiss grew sloppier and hungrier. Makoto peered around in fear, looking for an escape. A pair of teal eyes met his own, but Makoto was caught more by the fierce gaze next to Sousuke, coming from Ayame as she possessively clung to her man. 

Makoto felt sick as his last little bit of control over the situation slipped from his grasp. He wrestled Kai back, only successful because of how wasted the other was, and he looked around with wild eyes, fretting. One of Kai’s friends hefted the dark-haired male up easily and said to Makoto, “Come on, he just needs to sleep it off.” 

A big, meaty hand dug around in Kai’s pockets. Keys were tossed at Makoto, and he barely caught them. 

“You know how to drive, right?” Everyone around the table laughed like it was a good joke. Makoto looked down in fear and shook his head at the keys. No, no, he couldn’t drive. Still, he stiffly followed Kai and his friend out as his drunk ass was hauled to his car. Makoto unlocked the doors after the guy yelled at him, nearly dropping the keys again, and then he was left with a passed-out Kai in the passenger seat, and he stood frozen on the sidewalk. He looked ridiculous; he was wearing a maid’s outfit and heels, and he was this close to crying. But he couldn’t go back in and ask for help; he couldn’t face those people inside again, not without Kai. So, on shaky legs, he stepped up to the driver’s side and opened the door, slipping inside the car. He shut the door and let the darkness swallow them up. His heart raced. 

The last time he’d driven, his parents had been alive. Now they weren’t; it was a car accident that had killed them both. Makoto’s hands rattled on the steering wheel. It took him nine tries to even get the key in the ignition. He was so afraid to move. He sat there for an hour, until he could, as calm as he would ever be, pull the car out, slowly; he very slowly drove the thing out of the lot. His fear tried to eat him alive, but Makoto just took the back roads to Kai’s house. It took him an hour. 

Then he sat in the parking lot for another one, until Kai was sober enough to walk himself up the stairs. When Kai told Makoto to follow him, he didn’t offer a single word of refusal. Kai fell asleep the moment he hit the bed, still in his clothes. Makoto slowly undressed, and then he climbed inside Kai’s arms. He bit his lip to pieces as he cried in the silence. 

It would be okay. It would get better.


	9. No Good

He’d woken up to cold eyes watching him, Kai sitting in the dark in a chair a little ways away from the bed, just watching Makoto with a brooding expression. He had gotten up and silently he had hurt Makoto so badly, more than the brunet had ever felt pain. Physically and emotionally, Makoto was at rock bottom.

He sat in front of his locker at work, bare cheeks on the floor, in the middle of changing when he’d broken down, seeing what Kai had done to his body, and he couldn’t stop sobbing; gut-wrenching, body-quaking sobs that made it hard to breathe. He clung to the cold metal of his open locker door as he tried to _inhale_. Stars danced in front of his eyes as his vision tunneled.

Could he really keep doing this?

He’d brought the cuffs from his Halloween costume with him, and dance tights covered his legs, though they scraped over the raw cuts and bruises on his thighs. Kai hadn’t given a fuck who would see or if Makoto could hide it this time. He covered his face with make-up, careful to hide the bruises there as well. The hat he’d worn pulled over his face when he came in wouldn’t fly on the floor.

His hands shook as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. Some things he could do nothing about: the swelling at his bottom lip and the nasty cut across it. He blended it with a rosy lip gloss. His eye was red from a burst blood vessel, and both his eyes were swollen from crying, but he could just say he hadn’t slept last night.

He turned on his heels and walked himself quietly to the bar. There he sat down, silent, startling Rei when the man turned and suddenly found Makoto in a barstool.

“Please, I need a drink,” he whispered hoarsely, head down, hand to his forehead like his head was pounding.

“Hangover?” laughed Rei, but then he sobered up fast, taking in Makoto’s form, how he was trying to be small, how his voice was barely a whisper, like he didn’t want to disturb even the air around them. “Shot?” he asked somberly.

“Just make it strong.”

Rei mixed him a top shelf drink that he said was on him, and Makoto downed it with a wince as his lip split and burned from the alcohol, as his throat was scraped raw and his chest felt on fire. He blinked; he waited.

Fifteen minutes later it hit him, and it was just in time, too. Nagisa slid up beside Makoto, clueless, smiling wide. “You ready, hot stuff?”

Makoto turned to Nagisa and giggled, nodding. “Yesss,” he slurred a little, raising his hands like his favorite song had just come on.

Nagisa laughed as he caught one of Makoto’s wrists between slim fingers. “What are these for? Going for a new look?”

Makoto looked down, nearly forgetting he’d slipped the cuffs on over vivid bruises. He could barely feel the pain now thanks to the alcohol, but Nagisa was holding his wrist a little too tightly. He held back a wince and covered it with a smile, looking up at Nagisa again with a joke on his lips, but Nagisa’s gasp cut him off.

“Makoto, your eye! What happened?”

Makoto raised a hand quickly, fear rising up in him, but Nagisa was intently peering at him.

“It’s so red!”

Ah, yes. Makoto relaxed instantly, thanks to the alcohol in his veins, and he laughed again. “Would you believe I tried to stay up all night to marathon that new tv series-?”

“Oh!” yelped Nagisa in excitement. “I forgot you were obsessed with that show. Did it come out last night?”

He laughed as he turned on his heels, tossing a smile over his shoulder as their boss announced it was opening time. Makoto stood and straightened his shorts, but he felt Rei watching him.

“You okay?” he asked calmly as he dried a glass. He looked at Makoto through red-rimmed glasses.

“Yes, of course,” Makoto said with an awkward laugh. His smile wobbled, Rei watching him carefully.

“The premiere for that new show isn’t until tomorrow night,” he said calmly, and Makoto blinked at him blankly as he realized Rei knew he’d lied, and was probably wondering why.

“Oh,” was all Makoto said, still smiling. “Huh.”

He slowly turned away and walked to gather his apron and order pad from behind the other side of the bar. He tried to retain his calm.

There was a commotion at the door as he was tying his apron on, and he looked over to see what was going on. Their bouncer was ushering in a group, checking ID’s, and Makoto’s heart jumped ship out of his chest as his eyes met with familiar aqua. 

Sousuke stood amidst a sea of Olympic coaches and a few other swimmers, Ayame clinging to his arm as she giggled at the fact that they were in a strip club. Makoto stood frozen for half a second until he turned sharply and ducked away, cowering behind the bar. The alcohol was suddenly gone, and Makoto was aware of every cut, every bruise on his body, where they were, how well they were covered. He forced himself not to bite at his lip as anxiety rose. Every word Kai had whispered to him last night came back, bile rising with the too-fresh memories. 

This couldn’t be happening right now; the last person he could face right now was Sousuke. 

He listened to shoes tap over the floor on the other side of the bar, moving down into the main part of the club. He knew exactly where they were being seated, but he still prayed that it wouldn’t be true. But he had the biggest table in his section, the only table that could seat the whole group that had just invaded his safe space. And when his boss came knocking on the bar top, he knew he had to do his job.

He gathered himself, stood up. He’d pretend he didn’t know them; maybe he could maintain his sanity. He stepped out from behind his shield, the bar, and made his way down to the boisterous table in the corner. He wasn’t surprised when he saw Sousuke was the only one who wasn’t saying much; they barely heard him approach with all their talking, but Sousuke’s eyes were on him in an instant. It was unnerving; Makoto tried his best to ignore it. He’d done this before.

He took everyone’s orders with a smile on his face, laughing at the jokes the coaches told, suggesting appetizers as he leaned over the table to point at the menu. They were just regular customers. He ignored as much as he could the stare coming from his right. Ayame was especially loud tonight, laughing a little too boisterously, complementing coaches as they talked about the last few practices. She somehow had everyone at the table wrapped around her pinky, but Sousuke was staring straight ahead like he couldn’t hear a word she was saying. 

Makoto watched from the corner of his eyes as she tugged at his arm, got a little louder. He set the tray of drinks he’d brought back down and handed them off, smiling big as he handed a wine glass to Ayame. She took it from him with two fingers, her lips trying so hard to maintain her smile. She thanked him shortly and then turned back to Sousuke, purring his name and making a show of it, but Sousuke only glanced at her and nodded silently, uninterested.

“Get whatever you want,” he said when she asked him what he’d like to eat, pressing her chest against his arm, pointing out food on the menu with a long, manicured nail. She scratched gently at his arm with her other hand, like she was begging him to be more responsive. Makoto almost laughed; Sousuke had never, ever been one for talking much, but it was funny that she was taking it so personally. He turned away, thinking that maybe it wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. She hadn’t known Sousuke for years like he had. He felt somehow superior, and he tried to cling to that feeling as he bustled around, serving drinks and food to his tables. It was the only good feeling he’d had lately.

Makoto slipped down the hall to get a sip of his water bottle in the break room, a hand catching his before he could make it very far. He turned, ready with his customer service smile, but it slipped the moment he saw Sousuke before him. Sousuke watched Makoto with the same expression as always, blank, unreadable. Still, he was gentle when he cornered Makoto against the wall. Makoto looked at the thick muscular arms caging him in, slowly looking up at Sousuke. He was so familiar, yet so different. And right now, he was inspecting Makoto like it was his main mission in life; he’d never seemed so interested in the other before.

Makoto had to get away from him. He gave a little crooked, forced smile and said, in as level a tone as he could manage, “Won’t your girlfriend get mad? She’s been trying to get your attention all night.”

Sousuke glanced halfway over his shoulder, not even having enough commitment to fully look. He turned back to Makoto. “She knows I love her and what our relationship is. She’s okay.”

Makoto’s lips twisted at the words, but he bit his cheek to try to correct it. “I’m sorry, Sousuke,” he tried. “Did you need something from me?”

Sousuke looked Makoto over, quietly, unnerving. Makoto looked away, sighing to try to make Sousuke back off, but he didn’t move. Makoto couldn’t push past him even if he tried.

“You’re so different, Makoto,” Sousuke said after a long while. “I barely thought of you while I was away at rehab, but now you’re stuck in my head. And I can’t figure out what happened to you. Are you happy?”

Makoto wanted to laugh. How cruel could Sousuke get? But it was better that he didn’t spend too much time analyzing all the things that had gone wrong for Makoto. It was better, Makoto knew, if he just ignored the brunet, if he just made sure Sousuke focused on what mattered now. He had to make Sousuke forget about him.

“I’m happy, Sousuke. Please don’t concern yourself with me. We don’t have to be anything more than acquaintances. We were good friends, but now it’s time for you to move on, and me too.” Makoto was shocked he was able to keep his voice level as he spoke. The words tasted bitter, but he knew it was for the best, for both of them.

Sousuke blinked.

“I don’t want you to move on,” he said like the thought had just occurred to him.

“Why?” asked Makoto in shock, eyes slipping slowly wider. He wished Sousuke wasn’t so close; he felt like the man would see everything he was trying to hide behind make-up and cold words at any minute. “Am I not allowed?”

“No, I mean- Friends. I still… I want to be friends with you.”

Makoto bit back a bitter laugh, but he gave a sweet smile instead, reaching to pat Sousuke’s cheek. “You’re sweet, but it’s okay. Like you said, I’m not the same anymore. Don’t drag yourself down by being friends with me, Sousuke. You can be a lot better than you ever dreamed.”

Sousuke huffed angrily as he pushed off the wall and stalked away. His brooding gaze stayed on him all night, and Ayame only got louder and louder. She nearly threw a hissy fit when Makoto accidentally brought out the wrong drink for Sousuke. Sousuke held up a hand silently, and she bared her teeth, like it was a personal attack. Makoto tried his best to avoid the table as much as he could after that.

Before the group left, Sousuke tried to speak to Makoto again, but Ayame pulled him outside with all of her strength, and reluctantly the man followed. Makoto watched him go from the corner of his eye, standing at the bar, waiting for another customer’s drink. It was bittersweet; Sousuke’s words stuck with him. As much as he’d wanted to beg Sousuke to stay, beg him to see Makoto in a different light, he had known that would be too selfish. Sousuke had his own dream and life to live, and Makoto had no part in it anymore. 

He clenched his fist against the bar top and held back bitter tears. He wondered where in life he’d made the mistake that had brought him here. If he was honest, he was NOT happy. The only happiness he had now was making sure everyone else was happy. He could be okay with that; his own happiness seemed less important. Even if it meant carrying the cuts and bruises to make sure Kai was happy too, he would do so. His heart ached when he thought of his boyfriend. He loved him, he did, but Kai had changed a lot since they’d first started dating. Still, Makoto would stick with the man, because he could be better. They both could be.

“Makoto?” 

Nagisa’s voice pulled Makoto out of his trance. “You okay?” The brunet blinked at his friend, trying to remember how to smile. 

“I’m fine,” he said with a short laugh. Nagisa looked unconvinced. 

“Maybe you should take a break.” 

Makoto shook his head a little too quickly; if he stopped now, his thoughts would consume him. “I’m fine, really,” he promised, smiling at Nagisa. He turned and walked away, drinks in hand, knowing Nagisa was sitting at the bar watching him go with confusion on his face. Makoto had become excellent at pretending; he’d done so for the past two years now. He could do it a while longer, until things really did get better. 

He just had to be a better person, and not be so weak. 

“Here’s your drinks,” he said with a big smile to his table, and the men crooned and waved tips at him, stuffing them into the top of his apron. Makoto laughed, thanking them. They watched him go with leering eyes; Makoto was used to it. He quietly collected his tips and added them to his stash in his locker. He almost had enough to treat himself to a spa day at his favorite place; he’d been looking forward to it, but now it seemed moot. He couldn’t show his body to others anymore; there would be too many questions and worried looks. Still, he set his tips aside, a safety net, though it wasn’t like he’d ever try to run away again. 

He stood up with a heavy sigh, the weariness of his life weighing heavily on him. His body ached today, for so many reasons. 

When he turned, he was shocked to find Nagisa standing in front of the break room door, effectively blocking it, arms crossed, posture defensive. His lips were twisted down in a frown, and his eyes drilled into Makoto. 

“What’s wrong?” Makoto asked, attempting a laugh, but Nagisa didn’t even smile. 

“You’re not fine, Makoto. I’m not stupid.” 

Makoto backed up harshly against the lockers as Nagisa suddenly advanced, the metal and locks rattling loudly, and Makoto yelped. Hands grabbed at his wrists and Makoto turned his head away. He knew what was coming now; he didn’t want to see it. 

His cuffs were torn away and suddenly Nagisa went deathly silent. 

He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he’d expected, but this wasn’t it. Softly, slowly, little sounds began to fill the small space. Makoto frowned, unable to identify them. Slowly, he looked at Nagisa. His friend was gingerly holding his wrists in two of his own hands, trying to keep them from shaking as tears streamed down his face. He sniveled quietly and let out tiny sounds of great distress, biting down his louder sobs. 

“It’s not what it looks like, Nagisa,” Makoto tried desperately as his whole world crashed around him. He’d pretended for so long, told himself it was fine that he’d almost convinced himself this was normal. He tried to smile again, but the thing was weak and wobbly, and he let it slip away. “I promise, I’m okay-“ 

Nagisa’s face jerked up, and he stared at Makoto with pink eyes that were on fire, lips twisted harshly, his face wet. Makoto fell silent, unable to say anything else in the face of Nagisa’s anger. 

“It’s just my fault,” he finally let out in a tiny, tiny voice. It wasn’t anything for anyone else to worry about; it was just Makoto’s own foolishness that made Kai angry enough to hurt him. 

“Makoto, he’s abusing you!” Nagisa practically screamed. More tears came, and he wiped at them angrily. His hands were really shaking now. “He’s the bad guy!” 

“No-“ Makoto said with a shake of his head, eyes wide. He felt disconnected from reality; his ears were ringing, the sound droning on endlessly. “He loves me-“ 

“Bullshit! If you love someone, you don’t hurt them!” 

“It’s my own fault, I was just doing stupid things. It’s just my punishment-!” 

Nagisa dropped Makoto’s hands like they’d suddenly scalded him. He stepped away, so much pain and betrayal in his face, and all Makoto could think was that he’d done it again. He couldn’t even comprehend that the anger wasn’t at him but at the lies that Kai had fed him, that he regurgitated, that he believed. Nagisa shook in his anger. 

“Makoto, please, you have to know that this isn’t right! It’s not healthy!” 

“It’s fine, Nagisa, I love him. He’s a good man, he’s just having a hard time-! He’s just stressed.” 

Nagisa stepped forward again, pulled Makoto into a crushing hug. “Please listen to yourself! This isn’t you! You’d never let a man degrade you like this before he-“ 

“No,” Makoto suddenly said with absolute clarity. The pretenses fell away, everything fell away and it was just the hull that was Makoto left. “No, this is exactly who I am. I’ve always been this way. I need him, Nagisa. And he needs me. Do you know what it feels like to be needed?” 

“Yes, of course, but this isn’t-“ 

Makoto pulled away, stepped back. Nagisa was shocked to see the dead look in his eyes, his lips parted slightly as he looked at but didn’t see the blond. 

“I’m nothing but a shadow of my former self, but still he stays with me. Tell me that’s not love, Nagisa.” His voice cracked a little as he whispered, “Tell me I don’t deserve love.” 

“This isn’t love,” Nagisa keened in a tiny voice, begging Makoto to see reality, but Makoto had shut his eyes to it long ago. Reality was painful; the lies were soothing balms that didn’t hurt if one applied them often enough. 

“It’s my type of love. It’s all I deserve.” 

Makoto turned and picked up his cuffs again, stepping around Nagisa. 

“Please don’t worry yourself with someone like me, Nagisa. Your tears are wasted on me.” 

Nagisa whirled around with denials, but Makoto was already gone. He finished his shift quietly, avoiding the others, leaving before he could be cornered again. He walked all the way to Kai’s house, to the man who greeted him with a kiss and a warm hug. 

Makoto clung to his back. “I need you. Please don’t ever leave me,” he begged with tears in his eyes. 

Kai soothed him and told him sweet little lies and Makoto thought, _This is fine._

x 

Makoto didn’t want to open his eyes. He’d woken up to Kai humming softly, tracing soft circles on his arm as the smaller male lay curled up against his side. Beneath him was warmth and acceptance, and the emotions and stress from the night before seemed to melt away when he and Kai could enjoy their time like this. 

“I know you’re awake,” snorted Kai after a few minutes, and Makoto gave a little whine as he opened his eyes and looked up. Kai was smiling, and his hand pressed flat down over Makoto’s arm and rubbed it up and down. 

“It felt so nice,” murmured Makoto with a smile as he snuggled closer. Kai hugged him a little tighter. 

“You worried me last night,” Kai said next in a flatter tone, and Makoto nodded softly, a frown twisting his smile. 

“I’m sorry.” He probably shouldn’t have dumped all of his stuff from the night onto his boyfriend, but it sure had felt nice to unload, even though he hadn’t said anything. He couldn’t; he would if he thought it wouldn’t make Kai really mad, but he knew absolutely it would, and right now was so nice. “It was just a hard day at work.”

Kai didn’t say anything, but his hand slowly stopped and dropped off Makoto’s arm. The other frowned, looking up, but Kai was staring at the ceiling. 

“Quit your job.” 

Makoto almost laughed. It was a joke, right? No, maybe he’d misheard. Kai still wasn’t smiling. “Huh?” he finally asked dumbly with a confused laugh. 

“Quit your job. I’ll take care of you. You can move in with me, whatever, but don’t work there anymore. Don’t work at all.” His hand came back to hug Makoto, but it felt cold now. “Let me take care of you, baby doll.” 

Makoto sat up abruptly, pushing off his boyfriend’s chest. Icy blue eyes snapped to him, and Makoto shriveled up a little. “That’s really sudden,” he said in a small voice. He pulled his hands away to hide their shaking. Kai watched him for a long time, dead silent, until he slowly sat up, pulling Makoto a little forcefully to him. 

“Don’t you want me to take care of you? Or is there something at that job you’ll miss?” 

“Well, my friends-“ Makoto choked out, but he bit back the rest of his words. 

Kai’s voice was sweet as he said, “You can always see them whenever, if they’re your true friends.” 

Makoto blinked at muscled pecs. Well, he wasn’t wrong. It’s not like they’d lose touch, but Makoto would lose some freedom. Still, giving that up for having Kai take care of him, for not having to worry… 

“Let me think about it,” he whispered. 

Kai lifted his face by the chin and asked blandly, “What’s there to think about? Don’t you love me?” 

“Of course I love you!” Makoto cracked a wide smile. It didn’t sound so bad now. “Sure,” he said after a split second’s pause. “You’ve convinced me.” 

“Good. You can call them tonight and tell them.” 

“I should go in-“ 

Kai’s eyes looked down at Makoto, asking silently why he would. “I’ve got stuff in my locker,” he explained awkwardly. 

Kai huffed and turned away. “I’ll come with you.” And that was the end of it. Makoto stiffly nodded and laid his head back down on Kai’s chest. He wondered why he didn’t feel as happy as he thought he would. 

x 

The club was quiet, and Kai was scanning the place like he didn’t trust a single person in it, but still he let Makoto go to the back to fetch his things. He’d brought a small cross-body bag to stuff all of his saved tips in; some unknown urge whispered he should find a place to hide it. 

He had everything in hand and was stuffing it in his bag when the door burst open. Nagisa, Rei, and Kisumi were all talking until they spotted Makoto. The room went dead silent, and Makoto knew instantly that Nagisa had told them all. It made him mad, like an invasion of privacy. Nagisa probably thought he was doing the right thing, but it felt like betrayal. Makoto stood up so fast that his blood rushed down and he went dizzy for a moment, three pairs of eyes watching him carefully. The door shut slowly behind Kisumi, and he pressed his hands to it to keep people out, or Makoto in. 

“Is it true, then?” 

Nagisa’s voice was unbearably small and sad. Despite Makoto’s earlier anger, his heart was breaking. God, he wanted to say it was all a joke, but he couldn’t go out and tell Kai that. He pressed his money to his chest, eyes to the floor. 

“He’s out there bragging to anyone who will listen. Tell me it’s not true, Makoto.” 

Tears came unbidden, and Makoto was angry again, but this time at himself. Something in him broke, and he sobbed aloud. Two bodies descended on him in an instant, Rei left to guard the door. Nagisa and Kisumi pulled him into a tight hug, patting his back and combing his hair gently. 

“I don’t know what else to do,” Makoto admitted as he hugged his singles and fives to his chest like they were his last hope. “I love him, but he scares me so much sometimes. I couldn’t-“ 

Neither of the other two said a word, but Makoto could feel their undying love for him in the way they held him and soothed him. 

“He’s not good for you, Makoto. He’s not a good man.” 

Makoto bit back a rebuttal; it would do no good. Kai could be good if he tried; he had been in the beginning, after all. 

“He’ll kill you if you ever do anything wrong. He’s psycho.” 

“No, he would never-“ Makoto sobbed, hugging his money again. Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure; suddenly the money he clung to called him a liar. God, he would run if he could, but the fear of leaving Kai and what he would do then was more real than staying with him. “I’ll be okay,” he promised with all the conviction he could dredge up. 

He slowly stood up straighter and wiped at his eyes with the back of his shirt sleeve. 

“What’s this?” asked Kisumi quietly, and Makoto looked down at the bundle of cash in his hands. 

“It’s just my tips I’ve been saving. I don’t know where I’ll... put it now.” 

There was a moment to process, and then Rei said simply, “We’ll keep it for you here. When you feel ready, and you need it, you can just come back here and we’ll keep you safe.” 

Makoto’s hands trembled, overwhelmed. When Nagisa held his hands out, Makoto gave over the money easily, the easiest decision he’d made so far. It would be better in many ways; Kai wouldn’t be able to accidentally find it, and Makoto could rest easy that it was safe, and maybe if it was here, he’d forget about it and never feel the need to use it. 

“Thank you, for everything. I’m sorry to just leave like this. These last two years have been the best here with you, and I’m so glad I met you all.” 

Rei was quiet as Nagisa and Kisumi assured Makoto. When he spoke again, his tone was filled with a lot of emotion that Makoto had never known he felt. 

“You’ve been through too much for someone your age, Makoto. Just don’t think you need to pay penance for the things that happened to you by staying with him.” 

“It’s not... like that...” Makoto whispered, the words bitter on his tongue. He’d just needed someone to be there for him in the beginning, but now it did feel like his punishment that he had to bear. He was desperately hoping for his own happiness as he tried to give Kai his. 

He nodded quietly in the end, walked out with just some gloss and Tylenol in his bag, the only things left aside from the money and his friends. With downcast eyes, he saw the way Kai sat leaning back against the bar like he owned the whole world, and the way he smiled at Makoto when he approached sure made Makoto feel a little like that. He smiled shakily back at Kai. 

“Did they make you cry again?” Kai murmured as he grabbed Makoto to him, looking around in a big show, but Makoto just laughed and shook his head; the idea was ludicrous. 

“Let’s just go,” he whispered, taking Kai’s hand in his own as he offered it, the two walking out together. 

It could be good, this, Makoto tried to tell himself. “I just need to pack up and take care of things at home,” he said, but Kai laughed. 

“Just get your stuff, I’ll talk to your landlord.” 

Makoto didn’t like the implication of that talk, but what could he say, so he just nodded meekly. 

When he unlocked his apartment door, alone for the first time in more than 24 hours, he stared at Peanut and wondered what he was actually doing. He packed up his clothes and whatever he needed; maybe he could come back for the rest later. He scooped his cat up and put her in the little pet carrier he owned, and he prayed that Peanut Butter would get used to Kai. 

He stepped outside, the air cool against his flushed cheeks. Winter was coming soon. There was no warmth in the thought of his new ventures, but still, when Kai came up the stairs with a huge grin, Makoto smiled at him and handed off his bag. Kai kissed him deeply, Peanut shifting away in her cage. Makoto shut his eyes and hoped with everything he had left that he wasn’t making the worst mistake of his life.


	10. Revenge and the Fall-out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry 😢

Peanut Butter had taken and claimed a small corner of Kai’s apartment and Makoto had yet to see her leave it. His cat looked petrified to be here, and it broke Makoto’s heart, but he didn’t know what to do. 

Kai sat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers on the top of it as he watched Makoto cry with no expression on his face. After a hard night, Makoto had tried to pull Peanut out of the corner, but the cat had freaked out and lightly bitten him. It didn’t hurt; it was the shock of the action. Kai had found Makoto crying at the kitchen table, and he’d asked Kai what he should do. 

“Just take the cat to a shelter.” 

Makoto blinked wide at Kai. “No!” he yelped before he could stop it, and Kai’s eyes went slowly wide and dangerous. “I mean-“ Makoto corrected quickly, placating. “There has to be another way-!” 

Kai slowly simmered down, but the dangerous edge to his mood never quite faded. Makoto wrung his hands together; it was the first time he’d said no to Kai, and it hadn’t felt good, but Peanut was the one thing he would fight for, even more than himself. His mind churned. 

“Figure it out, Makoto,” Kai said finally as he huffed and stood. “I have to go to work. Whatever you do, I want the cat out by tonight.” 

Kai had also had enough. They both knew that if Makoto ever left, the Persian would tear the place apart in her anger. It was a wonder Kai had let Peanut Butter inside in the first place. The orange fluff ball growled and hissed at Kai whenever he got within ten feet of her corner, and it made a few things impossible for Kai. Even Makoto couldn’t soothe his cat at this point. 

Kai locked the door behind him, and Peanut Butter seemed to settle just a little, though she still looked like a menacing ball of adorable fur. Makoto approached slowly, hand out for Peanut to smell, but the cat turned her head slightly away. Makoto was sure by now he smelled more like Kai than himself. He couldn’t blame Peanut. 

Despite how it killed him to even think of it, he couldn’t keep torturing Peanut like this. “Baby, please, I don’t want to give you away either, but I think it would be better for you and your heart. You know I love you.” 

Makoto shuffled a few feet away from his precious cat and pulled out his phone. He dialed with tears in his eyes and lifted it to his ear. When that familiar, soothing voice answered, Makoto burst into tears again. 

“Makoto, what’s wrong?” Seijuro asked softly. He waited patiently as Makoto sobbed his heart out. 

“It’s Peanut Butter- it’s my cat. Can you... can you take her for a while?” 

Seijuro was silent for a moment, his voice far more concerned the next time he spoke. “Is she hurt?” 

“No! No, not yet. But... she doesn’t like it here with Kai.” 

Seijuro slowly processed the information. Makoto waited with bated breath. 

Finally, Seijuro said, “Yes, of course. Do you need me to come get her?” 

“No, no, I think- I think I need to bring her to you. And I think-“ 

Seijuro smiled softly; Makoto could hear it in his voice. “Wanna come and swim for a bit?” 

He’d read Makoto’s mind, and it made the other curl up in happiness, his blush creeping down his neck. “Yes, please,” he whispered in a tiny voice. 

“Come over, then,” Seijuro said with a chuckle. 

x 

It took Makoto too long to coax Peanut back into her carrier, almost like the cat didn’t want to leave Makoto here alone, even if it meant she herself might be hurt. But Makoto bribed with treats and kisses and finally broke down crying again, begging, and slowly Peanut stepped into Makoto’s hands. 

“I’m sorry,” sobbed the brunet as he pulled the cat to his face. Ah, he hadn’t held Peanut like this in what felt like forever. He sat for a long while just holding the fluff ball, until finally his tears dried and he carefully set Peanut into the carrier. She sat down obediently, quiet now, and Makoto placed the top back on. He dressed and washed his face, carrying a small bag with Seijuro’s old jammers and a towel, his old goggles and some water in a bottle, and he carried with him his pride and joy, to be kept safe at Seijuro’s. 

Makoto walked slowly up the stairs to Seijuro’s apartment, tired from the walk there. He’d taken one train, but most of the trip had been on foot. He knocked quietly, hearing shuffling and then deep footsteps coming closer. Seijuro opened the door with a concerned smile and welcoming arms. Makoto gratefully accepted both as he sank into the man for a hug. Seijuro was solid in a different way. With Kai, he was always on edge, waiting for the other to snap or push him away, but with Seijuro, it was effortless. He could let everything go with no fears. 

A big hand rubbed and warmed his back, and he was thankful for a friend like this. While he loved Haru and Rin, neither of them knew how to comfort Makoto because there was too much history between them. They knew everything that Makoto had done and been through, and while they sided with him, they also knew how far he’d fallen. Seijuro didn’t; he didn’t judge, he accepted quietly, knowing no better. Maybe Makoto was using him, but he thought he’d surely disintegrate if it wasn’t for the redhead. 

He pulled away slowly and walked inside, inhaling the scent of Seijuro that permeated the space. Peanut Butter was quiet, perhaps sensing Makoto’s calm. When Makoto set the carrier down on the table and opened it, Peanut sat up but didn’t move out. Makoto waved Seijuro over slowly. 

Peanut’s eyes followed Seijuro, regarding him quietly, watching Makoto. She gave a small purr, a question, permission maybe, and Seijuro raised his hand for Peanut to sniff his fingers. 

“It’s just for a while, Peanut,” Makoto said with uncertainty. Then he smiled and said, “Seijuro will take good care of you, and I’ll come visit as much as I can.” 

Peanut watched Makoto, still rooted in her carrier, and it broke Makoto’s heart. 

“Should I give you two some time?” Seijuro asked, but Makoto shook his head. Instead, he took Seijuro’s hand in his own and raised it for the cat to see. 

“See, Peanut? He’s good.” 

Calculating eyes regarded what Makoto showed her, and slowly Peanut stepped one paw, and then another, out. Makoto dropped their hands, but Seijuro didn’t let go; Makoto gratefully held on. With his other hand, Seijuro slowly began to pet Peanut, and it made Makoto smile widely to see how Peanut now quickly warmed up to the other man. She had seen Makoto was happy and relaxed with Seijuro, and that was all she’d needed. She was smarter than she seemed; she probably knew perfectly well what was happening. Makoto reached out and rubbed at her little face. 

“I love you, sweet thing,” he murmured, and then he slowly stood, Seijuro still squatting down and holding Makoto’s hand. The smaller man squeezed it thankfully, and Peanut gave a small purr. She sat on her hind legs and began slowly grooming herself, the surest sign that she was so much more comfortable here than at Kai’s, and Makoto knew he’d done the right thing bringing her here. It tore him apart that he wouldn’t see Peanut every day, but this was the best for her, and that was all that mattered. 

“Shall we go swim,” asked Seijuro as he turned his face up with a smile. Makoto let go of his hand to fix Peanut her bowl of water and food, setting it where Seijuro motioned would be good. Then he came back to cup Peanut’s face and pressed their foreheads together. 

“Be sweet, okay? You’ll be safe, and I’ll be fine.” Peanut gave a worried meow and Makoto kissed the top of her furry little head. “I’ll be okay, thank you, sweetie.” 

He grabbed up his bag, watched Peanut until he couldn’t anymore, and slowly nodded, looking at Seijuro as he locked the door behind him. 

“She’ll be okay, Makoto,” Seijuro whispered as he circled an arm around the brunet’s shoulder, hugging him for a moment. They walked silently together to the aquatic center, just across the street. 

The air was familiar, heavy and warm, and Makoto felt a little more comfortable now, changing in the locker rooms. He’d bought a swim shirt, the same material as his jammers, and he pulled it on as well. Thankfully, it wouldn’t be seen as odd, considering the cold weather outside. Many swimmers would be wearing these soon, aside from Haru, probably. Makoto gave a small laugh at the thought. When he padded out to the pool, Seijuro was already in, swimming laps. Makoto sat at the edge and watched the other for a moment. 

When he slipped in, the warm water was so inviting, like a hug from his favorite person. Seijuro swam over with a smile. 

“Wanna try a lap?” he asked, and Makoto nodded slowly. He raised his legs and carefully began wading, legs kicking and arms treading water. It was slow going, and tiring, but Makoto felt an old piece of himself returning. He swam to the other end of the pool, taking a long break there with Seijuro, until he felt ready to go back. Seijuro smiled and flooded his ears with encouraging words. Makoto nodded, shy but so appreciative. Slowly he swam back. 

He was so absorbed he didn’t notice the way the pool went quiet. Seijuro slowly swam past Makoto and pulled himself out of the pool. Below the water, voices echoed, but Makoto had to focus on finishing. By the time he gripped onto the edge of the pool and was able to breathe again, heart hammering from the effort, he was so ecstatic that he didn’t register for a moment that Seijuro was with someone else. 

Makoto looked up and nearly lost his grip on the edge of the pool. He grunted and grasped at it tighter, knuckles going white. Staring at him with wide eyes was Sousuke. The look on his face was, for once, easy to read, as he stared at Makoto in disbelief. 

“What are you doing here, Sousuke?” It was Seijuro that spoke. Makoto was too shocked and ashamed to utter a single word. 

“I came to swim,” said Sousuke without looking at the other, eyes still on Makoto. When he spoke next, it was to the brunet. “What happened to you, Makoto?” 

Makoto shrunk down into the water, only his eyes and the top of his head visible now. Seijuro raised a hand to stop Sousuke’s advance, but the other pushed it aside with a click of his tongue and stepped forward. 

“Your swimming form is shit. It’s like you haven’t been swimming at all.” 

Well, he hadn’t, so that made sense, but it still bruised Makoto’s ego, which had been slowly resurrecting again from its withered state. 

“Hey,” said Seijuro, no longer calm. He looked like Peanut when Kai said something demeaning to the other. He pushed at Sousuke’s chest, grabbed his attention. “Watch your words. We’re all just here to swim. Don’t harass my other swimmers.” 

Sousuke raised his hands in acceptance of the rules, though his lips told a different story. His eyes shifted back to Makoto; the damage was already done. Makoto couldn’t move or get out, fear settling into his bones. Fear of ridicule, of rejection. 

And then Rin rushed in, already steaming, already angry from the words he’d likely just heard, breathing hard as if he’d chased the dark-haired male here. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he yelled as he pushed at Sousuke’s chest. Seijuro tried to interfere, but Rin hissed. “Back off. I have some words to say, and he’ll listen to me, and then we’ll be good.” 

Seijuro sighed, shaking his head as he walked away. This was not his fight; Rin had been holding back for too long and Seijuro wouldn’t be the one in the way now. He slipped back into the pool and wadded to Makoto’s side. “You okay?” he whispered, but Makoto was so shocked by what was happening right now that he couldn’t process a response to the other. 

“Listen, you dick wad, you leave Makoto in fucking pieces after you leave, just up and take off, and now you’re back and you’re some fucking big shot with a hot girl and a new lease on life and you just expect everyone else to be fine?! You just left us!! You didn’t say a word to me, but fuck, I don’t even really give a shit about that. But how dare you- HOW DARE YOU not even call Makoto or message him. That guy has been through so much shit because of you, and you can’t even have the decency to acknowledge his pain. Of course he hasn’t swam since you left! Of course he doesn’t look good! You should be thankful he doesn’t resent you!” 

Rin was panting hard, finger jabbing at his old friend’s chest. He was as red in the face as his hair. Sousuke’s eyes had gone wider and wider the longer Rin went on, and now he was staring like none of those things had ever even occurred to him. Slowly, he turned to Makoto, really took the other in. Then back to Rin. 

“Shit,” he whispered with the first real emotion in his voice that Makoto had ever heard from him. “I didn’t know-“ 

“Of course you didn’t, you ass hat! You never even asked!” 

“Yeah,” Sousuke whispered, the most shocking of all. “You’re right.” Makoto was the one now staring with wide eyes, watching as Sousuke slowly walked forward and dropped down to his ass at the edge of the pool, just beside Makoto. “Sorry,” he murmured so softly that it could barely be heard over the slapping of the water against the tile and Makoto’s heart beating in his chest. It was only Rin slapping the back of Sousuke’s head that made him realize what the other had just said. He opened his mouth to say something, say it was okay, but teal eyes were already shifting back up to look at Rin as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Idiot, I hope you don’t think that’ll be enough. You’ll be paying for this for the rest of your life, so get ready to grovel.” Red eyes turned to Makoto, his mouth still open. “And don’t you dare just accept that weak apology or say it’s fine!” 

Makoto shut his mouth, cheeks burning as he slowly nodded. “Yes,” he whispered. 

There was the slightest moment of silence, and then Rin was ripping his clothes off and saying, “Get ready, you asshole. We’re gonna race, right here, right now.” 

Jeans, jerseys, and shirts came off, both of the men, of course, wearing jammers under their pants. Makoto watched it all with so much nostalgia, tears burning his eyes, in disbelief. Sousuke had been in peak physical condition back then too, but he’d only been a kid. Now he was a man, and he had grown along with the muscles on his chest and arms. When he turned to pull off his shirt, his back muscles flexed and Makoto had to dive down under the water to calm the heat on his face. His heart ached so badly. Kai was ripped too, but Makoto had never had such a visceral reaction to the other man as he’d always had with Sousuke. Sousuke tore his heart up through his throat and held it in his hand. It was raw and gut-wrenching. Makoto loved and hated it. 

When he came up again, it was just in time to see the two dive into the water a few lanes down. Water surged, but Makoto was stuck on the awe-inspiring view of them. Graceful, strong, and powerful as they moved through the water like it was nothing. Makoto’s heart ached anew, but this time for something else. He could have been beside them; he remembered the exhilaration of swimming next to those two. Nothing had ever compared to that. Nothing else ever would, but Makoto might never get to experience it again. Tears sank into the pool as Makoto waded in the water up to his lips, afraid to make himself too seen. 

“Don’t give up,” whispered Seijuro to him softly. Makoto looked over in shock, Seijuro’s eyes earnest on the other. He smiled, like he knew now he’d guessed Makoto’s thoughts right. How had the man read him so easily? “You can still swim with them again one day.” 

Makoto shook his head and turned back, smiling softly. With the heartache he felt, there was a quiet peace in his new role in life. “My time with them has passed. My job now is to be their support.” 

Seijuro’s lips pressed together, but he didn’t say anything else. Makoto let his mind drift to happier times. 

Sousuke and Rin slapped the edge of the pool at the same moment, Rin ripping his cap off in frustration as he came up, but Sousuke was strangely quiet. He turned to Makoto, but he didn’t say anything. He climbed out and quietly offered a hand first to Rin, and then to Makoto. Slowly, the brunet took it, his hand so small now in Sousuke’s. Memories rushed back as Sousuke easily hauled him out of the pool. He didn’t miss the way Sousuke’s lips twisted, biting back words. He was probably so light now as compared to the past. There was no helping that. Rin pressed a towel to Makoto’s chest and he thankfully covered up with it. He wasn’t cold; he was ashamed. 

Sousuke looked like he might have more to say, but the words didn’t come as he stared Makoto over. Finally, he turned away from Makoto in frustration. He sat down heavily on a bench nearby and dropped his head to his hands. Makoto quietly dried off. 

“I should go,” he whispered to Seijuro. He went to change in the quiet locker room, gathering his wet things in his own towel. He set the other aside for Rin. 

Cloying perfume curled around him as he stepped out into the hallway, Ayame making her way to the pool. She glanced at him with cold eyes, staring him down, calculating, but Makoto just dropped his head and rushed past her. His emotions churned, too many things at once. He wished he could just move on, let everyone else move on too. 

The clicking of Ayame’s heels stopped as she turned to watch Makoto leave. Slowly, she swiveled back to the pool, Sousuke visible through the glass. Her lips twisted bitterly, and she clenched her fist. 

“Damn you, you little home wrecker,” she whispered with an unrivaled malice in her voice. 

x 

Makoto squirmed on the hard plastic bleacher bench. Kai sat beside him like an immovable rock and Makoto thought for the billionth time that he should have just told Haru he couldn’t come. He’d been hoping to sneak out to come watch Haru and Rin practice again, but it was harder to do when Kai liked to breathe down his neck 24-7 now. It seemed useless to even change the password on his phone anymore; somehow Kai always got into it, and he tried to not let it bother him anymore. It was going to happen anyways… 

And so Kai had invited himself to the weekly open practice for the Olympic team.

Kai had been extra clingy, especially when Sousuke’s eyes had lingered on the two. He hung his arm around Makoto’s shoulders or held his hand, affectionate in his tone and easy with his smiles, but it was getting harder for Makoto to swallow them as truth. Right now, Kai was dead silent, staring down at the pool and the swimmers below like they were his mortal enemies. Makoto tried his best to be as small as possible and just enjoy the swimming. 

Haru and Rin were getting a lot better. They had always thrived in competitive environments, but Makoto had felt the same drain him. It was for the best that he had quit when he had; working hard and only coming so far to face rejection would have been hard. He was proud enough to see two of his best friends down there. Sousuke, too, seemed to be getting better every day. He took care of his shoulder and warmed it properly. He did stretches and took breaks if he felt overworked. Makoto could see all the little things so well, because he’d watched all the ways Sousuke had ruined himself before; they were ingrained in his mind as his own mistakes for not pointing them out before it got too bad. 

The splashing of water as everyone jumped in made Makoto smile, and there was a grunt from beside him. He turned to find Kai staring incredulously at him. 

“I don’t get how you find it so enjoyable to come to these practices every week and watch other people swim.” 

Makoto blinked. “Don’t you like to watch others wrestle?” 

Kai scoffed. “What’s the point? I’m better than them anyways.” 

Makoto turned back around, thinking now that a lot of things made sense to him. Kai’s superiority complex was indestructible, and while he was talented and really good at many things, it wasn’t like he didn’t have room for improvement. 

“You could learn new tricks or how your competition fights. There’s always ways to better yourself.” 

Kai laughed at that, pulling Makoto close as he chuckled. “You’re cute, darling. Don’t you believe in me?” A thick finger turned Makoto’s chin up, and Makoto nodded slowly. 

“Of course. I just-“ But his words were cut off by a laugh and a strong kiss, and Makoto let it go. Maybe Kai was in a good mood today; Makoto should work hard to keep it that way. 

“Anyways,” he said with a little more excitement as he turned back to watch the swimmers with stars in his eyes. It was rare for Kai to want to hear what Makoto had to say. He’d take it when he could. “I just love seeing how far my friends have come. Back from when we all barely could compete in relays, to now. It makes me proud to see, and so I-“ He turned, smiling at Kai, but Kai wasn’t listening at all. Makoto’s face fell, words falling softly on deaf ears. “So I like to come watch them.” 

Makoto turned back to the pool slowly, a pain in his heart that was hard to describe. Being with Sousuke had hurt in its own ways, but he’d never felt like Sousuke had been so outright cruel. Sure, he was dumb and oblivious, but in his own ways, he’d tried hard to make Makoto happy. Kai, however, seemed to not even care some days. Makoto gripped at the edge of the bleacher and stewed in silence. 

By the end of the practice, Makoto felt icky, like his skin was dirty, his thoughts turning putrid. When Kai took his hand, he had a violent gut reaction to shake him off, but he gripped on tighter instead, merely for his own safety. Kai grinned as he led the other out and back downstairs. Makoto felt less than enthusiastic as he greeted his friends, even as he smiled and told them how much they were improving. 

Suddenly Kai’s arm was around Makoto’s shoulder and he was tugging him to his chest, talking too loud for the space, bragging on Makoto. Makoto felt that icky feeling rise again; he knew exactly how fake it was, because if he turned and looked now, he was sure Sousuke would be standing somewhere nearby. 

Haru just stared blankly, Rin looking ready to ask what the fuck was wrong with the man as he’d cut Makoto’s conversation off to brag to no one in particular. Instead, he looked Kai dead in the eye and said in the flattest tone possible, “We know Makoto is perfect. How else do you think he could put up with you?” 

Kai’s grip got tighter on Makoto’s shoulder, and he had to bite back a yelp as nails dug into fresh bruises. But Rin was already walking away, over it, and Haru reluctantly followed. Makoto watched them leave in the wake of Rin’s destruction, fear making his heart pound out of his chest. Kai was silent, but his grip on Makoto’s arm didn’t loosen. Was Sousuke seeing all of this? Makoto wanted to shut his eyes and wish it all away. 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he told Kai in a rush, a brooding presence creeping up behind, and he knew he had to leave. Ayame’s voice cut through the haze in his mind and he ducked and ran. 

In Makoto’s absence, the two large alpha males faced off against each other, Kai grinning widely, Sousuke practically growling. “What’s wrong with you?” Ayame was asking in annoyance as she walked away, her own inner turmoil too strong for their drama. 

Kai’s lips turned up into a sharp smirk. “I should thank you. Sousuke, was it? If it wasn’t for you breaking Makoto’s heart, I could never have molded him into such a perfect little slave. He’ll do anything for me now; I’m all he knows after you left him so empty and alone. Don’t think he’ll ever come crawling back to you, not until he’s so used up you’ll barely-“ 

Kai could have never seen the punch coming, it was so quick and jarring. The man of steel, self-proclaimed best wrestler, reeled back in shock from the force of the blow. His face bloomed in pain, and he stuttered. By now, Ayame was back and fuming. 

She watched with all-too discerning eyes as Sousuke’s lips twisted in bitter jealousy, as Makoto’s boyfriend blinked wide in shock and then pride. He’d discovered Sousuke’s weakness, and Ayame realized her claws in Sousuke hadn’t reached deep enough. 

She would fix that. She grabbed Sousuke by the shoulder and dragged him away. Her face felt stiff, her words running through her mind over and over. “Darling~” she purred when they were alone. Sousuke blinked at her with wide eyes as she buttered the man up with compliments, before dropping her little bomb. 

Unaware of it all, Kai hustled Makoto out of the building, past the group of reporters forming outside the door for an exclusive interview with one of the newest members of the Japanese Olympic swimming team. One recognized Kai and chased after him, persistent for an interview, so he stopped and answered her questions through clenched teeth. His perfect image was showing its cracks, and Makoto could only helplessly watch them slowly spread. When the reporter turned to Makoto and shoved a phone that was recording in his face, he let out an undignified sound. 

“Are you a friend of Kai’s? What would you say his chances are at next year’s Olympics?” 

A thick arm whipped out in front of Makoto’s face, and now Kai was angry. In a cocky tone, he scoffed, “Of course I’ll win every match. Put me against anyone, I’ll take them all down-“ 

There was a raucous cheer from a few feet away and suddenly everyone flocked to the doors. Sousuke walked out with Ayame on one arm, Haru and Rin and some of the other swimmers right behind him. The reporters mobbed the group and immediately began to assault them with questions. 

Makoto’s ears rang as one voice stood out above the rest and silenced everyone. 

“I’m so happy to announce that my sweet Sousuke proposed to me earlier!” 

Green eyes flicked to the side, away from the train wreck waiting to crash into him before all of their eyes, knowing that Kai was very aware of his attention’s focus. Still, from the corner of his eye he could see how Sousuke stood stiff and unsure, while Ayame was beaming, hand on his chest. 

On her finger sat a big, fat diamond that caught the sunlight and blinded everyone in sight of it. And yet, while everyone ooh’ed and ahh’ed over the ring, Makoto couldn’t tear his eyes away from Sousuke’s face. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Makoto’s heart throbbed with a raw kind of hope, achingly unfulfilled as always, until Sousuke was pulled down by Ayame to smile for a picture, and the way his lips turned up was so pure and genuine that Makoto’s very small hope was instantly pulverized. 

Makoto caught Rin’s eyes over Sousuke’s shoulder, as he stared at Makoto with the most gut- wrenching expression, like he was scared this would break Makoto. But instead Makoto turned back to Kai and smiled at the reporter before them, the mask he had perfected slotting back into place with a painful shudder. Even as it broke him, he wouldn’t ever let it show. He would be strong, always, even if it was just his smile. 

It was all so clear now. He stared dead ahead, seeing nothing, smiling like a puppet. He had been a fool to let any sort of hope grow in his heart. After all, he had Kai, and that should be more than enough for a wretch like him. He walked away, Kai’s hand around his own, and tried to find comfort in the fact that at least he had someone who loved him just a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayame is a ~BITCH~ 💅🏼


	11. Trying to Find the Point

Makoto was almost too excited for words. It had been a while since Kai had taken him on a date, and he’d promised on Monday that he would take Makoto ice skating, which was the one thing he’d always wanted to try but had never been able to. He was practically vibrating out of his skin with excitement by Saturday, and all week he had been so happy. Kai had been treating him so well, a good week for both of them, and Makoto could only think that things were looking up. He hadn’t thought about Sousuke at all… 

The ice rink was fairly close by, and Makoto was shocked and pleased. It was large inside, and everything was new and clean. The girl at the rental counter was sweet, and she flirted with Kai. Still, nothing could dampen Makoto’s mood, even as Kai flirted back, standing right beside his boyfriend. Makoto just smiled and laughed. 

Makoto tried to tie his skates on as tight as possible, but it was hard, and Kai finally sighed wearily and hefted his legs up on the bench, forcing Makoto to sit back on his hands. The laces were pulled tourniquet-tight, but when Makoto stood up, his feet were wobbly but his skates stayed firmly in place. He grinned at Kai, who smirked back. Makoto embarked on a slow journey to the ice rink. There, he clung to the side wall and waited with crooked knees for Kai to come and teach him. The man stepped past him, gliding onto the ice, showing off as he made an easy lap around the rink, turning back again and skating circles. Finally, he came to a stop in front of Makoto and he laughed in his face. 

“Come onto the ice,” he cooed teasingly, and Makoto gave a crooked smile, not sure how to feel about Kai’s tone. His heart trembled in his chest, unsure. His high spirits made everything else feel disconnected as he looked at Kai like he was watching from someone else’s perspective. 

“Uhm,” he said, unsure as he slowly hobbled to the ice. It was far slicker than he’d thought, so different from water and the ground he’d just been walking on. He nearly fell on his face, his death grip on the side of the opening to the rink his only saving grace. Kai snorted softly. 

Two feet on the ice, Makoto was having a hard enough time just standing, but at least Kai seemed to have stopped laughing at him after a moment. The brunet pulled himself along the low wall as a start, his feet sliding apart as he went. 

“You have to pick your feet up, Makoto,” Kai said behind him, watching with a grin on his face. At least he didn’t seem to be laughing _at_ his boyfriend anymore. 

“I’ve never done this before,” Makoto whimpered as he tried to pull his feet together, but still they kept sliding apart, and his legs were shaking now too. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Hands came up behind him and suddenly strong arms were pulling him up. In a desperate attempt to not fall on his face, Makoto switched his hands from the wall to Kai’s jacket, and he clung on until his knuckles were white. 

“There you go, darling,” Kai crooned into his ear, low and sweet, and Makoto shivered. He nodded, leaning into Kai. “Now pick up your feet and glide.” 

With Kai’s arm around him, Makoto slowly started to move along. Kai was actually being patient with him, sliding slowly beside him. They made the slowest lap around, and then Kai flipped backwards and grabbed at Makoto’s hands. 

“You can do it, baby doll.” 

Makoto felt the reassurance surge up inside him, and slowly he straightened his spine and put more thrust behind his push-offs. The next lap around went smoother, and they did a few more until Makoto was getting winded. Kai dropped him off by the wall and went to show off some more. Feeling lighter than air again, Makoto watched him with a proud smile on his lips, remembering again why he’d found Kai attractive in the first place. 

He was beginning to look less and less like Sousuke as Makoto easily separated the two now in his head. Where Kai was wider, Sousuke was a little taller and slimmer in the shoulders, though that wasn’t to say both of them weren’t ripped. Kai seemed more like a solid mass, Sousuke something fluid and graceful. Wrestling and swimming were two different animals, as were Kai and Sousuke. And more than anything, they were two very different people. 

Kai sped back around, and when he turned, he reached out for Makoto’s hand. “Come on~” he sang with a grin. Makoto let out a short yelp as he was pulled away from his safety, and he had to fight to get his legs aligned under him, but soon enough, he was skating along beside Kai, just their hands linked together, and it was everything Makoto could have asked for in an ice skating date. He was soaring so high, so happy, thinking this moment was all he needed to justify all the bad of the past months. 

“Kaiii!” yelled a voice across the ice, shattering Makoto’s moment, his peace, as Kai whipped around and laughed aloud. Makoto glanced over his shoulder and felt his heart sink into the ground. Coming up fast behind them were the two friends Kai had brought along to the bar that one night. Makoto looked at Kai with wide eyes, but the other was just grinning over his shoulder, eyes shining as he watched his friends fly up. He turned to Makoto, gave him a wink, Makoto feeling a moment of dread before that gut-wrenching feeling that the floor had dropped from under him as, suddenly, Kai’s hand was gone from Makoto’s. The brunet yelped, and Kai giggled delightedly, a cruel child enjoying the torture of an ant. Makoto feared this side of Kai more than anything else in the world; his fear weighed heavy on him, physically dragging him down as he shivered, pure, white horror down his spine. 

“Keep it up~” sang Kai derisively, and suddenly two hands pushed into Makoto’s back and he was sent flying across the ice on his skates. 

He could have screamed; he should have, but his voice left him in the pure terror he felt. The only thing that saved him was raw instinct. He picked one foot up, slammed it down, and then the next, and he managed to curve himself around, slowing himself down, taking a long lap around as he watched Kai and his friends, his vision swimming in anger and anxiety. They were laughing, Kai not even watching Makoto to make sure he was okay. Makoto’s heart was rocketing out of his chest, shattered on the ice. 

Maybe it was just an accident. Maybe, maybe, maybe maybe maybe. Makoto gave a small, breathless laugh as he slowly skated back to the group. 

“Funny...” he said with too high of a pitch, his anxieties eating him alive as he tried to keep his head above the churning waters. He glanced at Kai and gave a shaky smile, hoping, still praying. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But Kai just looked at him with no emotion in his blue eyes and shrugged. 

“Nice save,” laughed one of the friends, and he smacked Makoto across the back. Hands reached out for Kai’s arm, and Kai grabbed his hand, a reflex. There was a split second of relief, but then Kai was off, dragging Makoto with him at a heart-stopping speed, and Makoto was once again having to gather his wits and find his balance. Two figures whipped past them and laughed as they skated in circles around them. Hands pushed at Makoto, and they joked as he stumbled and tried so hard to not fall on his face. He laughed along like he was losing his mind for a while, until one hard push caused him to nearly twist his ankle, and now Makoto wasn’t laughing anymore. 

It was enough. 

“Loosen up, babe,” Kai said with a sweet grin as he poked at Makoto’s tight lips, green eyes sliding up in shaky disbelief at Kai’s easy going nature. Still, his friends were pushing at Makoto, and now they were chiming in, mockingly singing, “Loosen up, babe!” 

“I need a drink,” Makoto blurted out. He tried to pull his hand out of Kai’s, but his boyfriend’s grip tightened, and suddenly the other two men were close, one right behind and the other in front, laughing as they taunted him. 

“Kai, he’s such a little wimp.” 

“You were right when you said he’d do anything.” 

“Is little Makoto gonna cry? Are we being mean to you?” 

Green eyes, glistening, looked up defiantly at the man before him, who had the nerve to laugh in his face. Makoto turned to Kai, and he said as sweetly and in the strongest voice he could manage, “Kai, I’m going to go get a drink. Do you want anything?” He bit hard at the inside of his cheek to keep his lips from quaking. 

Kai loosened his grip on Makoto with a laugh, like nothing had happened and Makoto was overreacting. “Sure, baby, how about you get me a beer? You guys want anything?” 

The other two chimed in that beers would be nice. Makoto looked around for a moment, but he wouldn’t stay long enough to argue it. 

“I’ve got some money in the locker. Be a doll and fetch us the drinks, yeah?” 

Makoto just nodded stiffly as he slipped past the others and slowly skated away. He clenched his hands together to hide their shaking. Tears threatened to slip out, but he bit them back, teeth digging into the soft skin of his bottom lip. Behind him, he could hear laughter as the trio skated off. As soon as he was out of sight, Makoto sank down onto the bench by their lockers, knees knocking together, and he pressed his head to his thighs, trying to breathe as his head went light. Thoughts churned in his head until everything suddenly went dead silent, Makoto removing himself from his own body because disassociating was the only thing keeping him sane recently. Slowly, Makoto tried to breathe, focusing on just the air leaving and rushing into his body, just that. It was all he could do. 

He thought he was hallucinating. He didn’t want to look up, but slowly voices came closer, and Makoto dared a peek up. If they’d seen him yet, neither showed it, but coming towards the lockers behind him were none other than Sousuke and Ayame, the woman bundled up and looking too happy, hearts in her eyes as she spoke to Sousuke. Aqua eyes shifted over the ice rink, and Makoto moved without even thinking. He turned to sit on the edge of the bench facing away and pulled the hood of his coat up over his head. He huddled down, pretending to adjust his skates and praying their locker wasn’t in front of him. This was the worst, the worst. He was about to just take his skates off and sit it out when a looming shadow cast over him. He couldn’t even look up, thinking surely it was Sousuke, but it was Kai’s voice that said the next words he heard. 

“How long does it take you to get three beers, Makoto?” 

Makoto didn’t even think he could get the skates off now even if he tried, they were tied on so tight. Makoto slowly looked upward, giving a shaky smile; Kai didn’t sound or look happy. The conversation behind them stopped, and Makoto could feel the two pairs of eyes shift to the back of his hood. With a fear in his eyes he couldn’t hide, he looked at Kai. 

“Let’s just go home,” he whispered in a tiny voice. “We have beer there-“ 

Kai wasn’t looking at him anymore. His eyes had shifted up and he was looking straight into the eyes of possibly his worst enemy. Behind Makoto, Ayame groaned, “You again? Are you fucking serious?” 

When Makoto turned his head enough to see, her eyes snapped to him and she rolled them. “What, are you stalking us now?” On her finger sat that big rock, and Makoto couldn’t help but stare at it. Sousuke’s eyes were focused on Kai for a moment until Ayame laughed. Green met aqua and it was explosive. Makoto’s eyes teared up, but he tore them away and turned back around. He grabbed Kai’s hand blindly and whispered, “Let’s go home-“ 

Air rustled through Makoto’s hair as Kai flicked his hood off, grinning like he was having the most fun in the world all of a sudden. Louder, he said again, “Where’s our beers, Makoto, darling? You’re just sitting here cowering in fear? What’s wrong?” 

A thick finger tucked under Makoto’s chin and turned it up, but his voice was so condescending and sickeningly sweet that Makoto felt physically ill. Ayame was laughing softly, purring at Sousuke that they should leave the two alone, but Sousuke seemed frozen by indecision. 

Makoto rushed up to his feet. Anything to get away. “I’ll go get them now, sorry, Kai.” 

Kai watched him go with a wide smile on his face. Then he turned to Sousuke and grinned. “He’s so sweet, isn’t he? But a little bit stupid in the head. His face makes up for it, though.” 

Sousuke’s fist clenched, but he said nothing as Kai walked away laughing. Ayame’s lips were pulled tight. 

“Let’s just go skate, dearest,” Ayame told Sousuke when he didn’t move. He nodded slowly, his heart not in it, but Ayame was sure she could fix that. She reminded Sousuke of what she had to offer as she pulled him along, tits squeezed between her arms, laughing sweetly. Sousuke’s eyes jerked from Makoto’s back to her chest, and Ayame grinned as he stared holes through her. 

Makoto juggled three, full plastic cups in his arm, trying to hold on to anything he could as he walked his way back to the rink. He could hear the trio’s laughter before he even saw them. The change in his jacket pocket jingled, and three pairs of eyes shot up. 

“About time!” howled one of them, the other busting out laughing. Kai chortled and scolded Makoto sweetly for being so lazy, like it was all for fun. Makoto was acutely aware of Sousuke within earshot, and so he laughed like he was in on the joke all along. He couldn’t stand Ayame drilling holes into his skull, but more than that, he couldn’t let Sousuke know what Kai was like. He had to play along. 

The guys chugged down their beers and Makoto laughed nervously as he tried again. “Now can we go home, Kai?” He tried to give a sweet smile, touching Kai’s hand softly, but the other two just laughed. 

“Makoto wants to go home, Kai~” they whined loudly, laughing. Makoto had to fight to keep the smile on his face. Even when Kai clicked his tongue and pulled Makoto back onto the ice, there was nothing he could do or say, so he just pretended everything was fine, laughing with them as he shriveled up inside, withdrawing further. 

Kai cuddled Makoto to his side again, being sweet even as his friends picked up their antics again from earlier. The beer made their tongues a little looser, and their voices louder. Eyes stared at the four of them, but Makoto just laughed and smiled like he was in on it all. The inside of his cheek was bitten raw, but Makoto was nothing if not a good actor by now. 

Kai laughed along, he coddled Makoto, flirted with him loudly, like he was showing off. Despite it all, Makoto still blushed and smiled; he hated that even now, Kai’s words still affected him. He was weak, so cruelly weak. He could barely stand himself, sick to his core. 

“You’re doing so good, baby doll,” Kai purred to him even as faces mimicked Makoto’s shy smiles and wide eyes. 

“Oh, he looooves you, Kai! Look at him!” 

“Of course he loves me,” said Kai with easy confidence. “Tell ‘em, cuteness.” 

“Yeah,” said Makoto with a big smile, knowing Sousuke heard every word. “Yeah, I love Kai.” 

He was dying inside, beyond shame and embarrassment. He wanted to curl into a ball and die, he wanted to leave, but Kai held him tight to his side, and there was nothing Makoto could do. For an hour, it went on. Finally, Ayame complained loudly that they were ruining her nice date like they were the only people there. 

“Take me home, Sousuke, I want hot cocoa~” Her voice felt like nails on a chalkboard to Makoto’s fragile mind. 

Sousuke gave a short, lazy hum. “Yeah,” he said, and when she keened, he corrected to, “Yes, dear.” 

As they skated past the four of them and off the ice, Kai and Ayame locked eyes, unbeknownst to their partners. The same sort of energy transferred between the two. The moment was over as soon as it had begun, and they were gone. Kai pushed Makoto to the edge of the rink. 

“Go take your skates off,” he said in a flat tone, his happy mood gone just like that. “We’re going home.” 

He turned to his friends and said, “Thanks for a good time,” but there was nothing genuine to his words. Still, his friends laughed and shrugged, like they didn’t give two shits. Their fun was in tormenting Makoto; they didn’t need thanks for it. Makoto wobbled himself to the edge and back to the locker area. He sank down and tore his skates off with all of his strength, nearly tossing them aside. All the excitement and fun was gone for him; slowly everything in his life was leaking out the color and turning monochrome. Even food had lost all its appeal, and now he just ate to try to feel a little less empty inside. 

He stared at his thin arms as they hung off the bench, by his thin legs. He was wasting away, and he couldn’t find the strength to wonder why it was bad. He hadn’t looked in a mirror or thought about how he looked in a long time; looking only hurt, and Kai’s words were sweeter. It was easy to listen to Kai sweet talk him out of his clothes so he could fuck him, when he felt generous. 

Going home wasn’t even a comfort anymore. Peanut wasn’t there, and Makoto was lonely even when Kai was beside him. Still, when Kai lifted up his chin, he smiled at his boyfriend. What else did he really have anyways? He was too weak to keep ahold of the good. 

x 

Makoto was falling back into old habits. He had quite a few messages now on his phone that were left unread. Everything felt exposed, since Kai often read through his phone, and it seemed easier to be alone and pretend the world outside wasn’t moving on without him. It was how he’d thought he should deal with his heartbreak after Sousuke, and it seemed he still hadn’t learned. 

Nagisa was not going to let it slide so easily, though. Around 11 one morning, Makoto was nursing a headache and a mug of tea as he sat curled up in his pj’s, when there was a horrifyingly loud knocking on Kai’s front door. Makoto’s heart slammed up into his throat and he thought of all of the horrible things that could possibly happen now. When his phone chimed, he grabbed at it on instinct. 

_Open up, you butt._

He hadn’t opened his messages app. He could pretend to not be home- _We know you’re in there._

No, Nagisa was not going to let it slide so easily. Makoto slowly uncurled himself and padded to the front door, mouth full of excuses. “I’m really not in the mood for this today,” he began, but his words were swallowed as he saw not only Nagisa, but Rei and Kisumi, Haru and Rin. They carried bags of food and god-knows what else. Makoto stared at them in confusion. 

“What are you all doing here?” 

“Stopping you from becoming a hermit by your own choice,” Nagisa huffed as he pushed past Makoto, looking around Kai’s place. “Fuck, this place is depressing.” 

Makoto looked down at the floor; he couldn’t disagree, but he wasn’t sure if Nagisa was talking about the grey and black home decor or Makoto’s mood. He stepped aside and slowly ushered everyone else in. It’s not like he had any other choice; Nagisa was already making himself at home. 

“Seriously, how do you not cry in here all the time from how drab it is?” Nagisa was frowning so deeply, but thankfully he missed the way Makoto didn’t respond, his words too close to the truth. Haru, however, didn’t miss the bitter twist of his lips. He frowned himself, staring at Makoto with a mix of frustration and love. Rin meanwhile was pacing around, mumbling under his breath about everything he saw and how much he hated it all. He ended up curled up in one of Makoto’s old blankets like it was his only solace, sitting on the floor, and slowly Makoto moved to the kitchen to at least be a good host. Rei, however, shooed him out as he took control of the kitchen and blender. Nagisa was pulling out ice cream and chocolate syrup and big plastic straws. He too sternly told Makoto to go sit. Kisumi patted at a spot on the floor, and he tossed a blanket around Makoto’s shoulders as he cuddled up beside him, smiling softly. 

“We’ve all missed you, and we didn’t want you to start pretending like you were all alone in the world.” 

Makoto stared at the floor beneath his toes. It was a blessing and a curse to have friends who knew him so well. 

“I’m doing okay,” Makoto lied, but his enthusiasm wasn’t there, and everyone silently rejected his statement. Rin shuffled to sit closer to his best friend. 

“You can talk about it,” said Haru, even though it looked like talking at all made him a little uncomfortable. But that’s what made it that much more meaningful. Still, Makoto was silent, giving everyone a wobbly smile. He was trying to be strong, even now. Kisumi pulled his head down to his shoulder. 

“We’re gonna fatten you up, first of all,” declared Nagisa as he came back from the kitchen with a tray of tall glasses filled with chocolate milkshakes. Makoto got the first, biggest glass, and Nagisa made sure everyone had one before he sat his own butt down close to Makoto, pulling an uneasy Haru closer while Rei was humming softly in the kitchen. Makoto had to hide his face in Kisumi’s shoulder. “You’re wasting away, and I don’t give a shit what that asshole Kai thinks.” 

Makoto frowned. “He’s my boyfriend, Nagisa.” 

“Okay, but today we don’t have to pretend to be nice to him. That includes you.” He was grinning from ear to ear, poking Makoto’s arm, but the brunet was silent. He didn’t know what to say. 

“Second of all, we’re not leaving until all of the ice cream and snacks are gone, and you’ve smiled at least once.” 

Makoto was absolutely torn between knowing he needed this and wishing he was alone. He didn’t want to talk; talking meant facing reality, and Makoto was trying very hard to not do that. His reality was too cruel. 

“It won’t hurt you to talk about it,” said Rin after a long moment of silence, everyone’s eyes shifting to him as if they’d forgotten he was there, cocooned inside his own blanket fort. Somehow Rin always said exactly what Makoto didn’t want him to. At the pool as well, he’d just spoken his mind. Makoto pulled a face he couldn’t control, but that only made Rin rise up and hover over him. “Come on, say something real for once. Tell us how you fucking feel. Tell Sousuke off.” 

Rin was fuming with anger, but Makoto knew that distant look in his eyes. In some ways, Rin had been hurt worse by Sousuke leaving than Makoto had, but they shared that feeling of abandonment, and Makoto wondered how much it killed Rin that the brunet refused to show his anger. He bit at his lip, looking up at Rin. 

“There’s nothing left to say,” he said in the quietest voice. What was done was done. What would words and anger do? The anger Kai felt had certainly never helped anyone, considering it was always directed at him. He shifted uncomfortably, something in his body aching fiercely. He’d gotten used to the twinges when he hit a sore spot. 

“But you never said anything at all! There has to be so much you need to say out loud-!” 

“Rin,” whispered Haru, and everyone was shocked to see him nearly in tears. Makoto blinked wide at him, blue eyes staring at Makoto like he regretted so many things. 

“This is a safe space, Makoto,” whispered Kisumi softly. “It’s okay to be real.” 

Makoto’s mask cracked a little. “I can’t-“ he whispered fiercely in a broken voice. He couldn’t say the words. He’d tucked them away for so long that unleashing them now could only bring out lots of unwanted things. 

Rin sat down again with a huff, pulling the blanket together again around himself. “I’ll start,” he said decisively. 

“Sousuke never said a word to me. I didn’t even know he was pushing himself too hard, or that he’d injured himself. Well, he didn’t tell me, but I should have noticed. It was obvious, but I thought he knew how to handle it. When he left without telling me anything, I was so angry for a very long time. Haru knows.” Haru nodded quietly. “Sousuke was always an expert at keeping the most important things a secret, but this was going too far. I tried contacting him a few times, but he didn’t say too much. When I pressured him about it, he apologized shortly, but... he’s changed.” Red eyes turned to Makoto, earnest, pleading. In them, Makoto saw the way Rin still adored and idolized Sousuke, the way they both hoped he would be the best he could be. Rin was angry, yes, but he also still loved Sousuke like a brother, and maybe Makoto himself was missing a piece of that puzzle. “He’s different now.” 

“And that girl... I don’t like her.” His tone was quiet now, brooding as his eyes turned down and he stared at the floor. 

Sousuke had seemed mostly the same to Makoto, but he’d tried to keep their interactions to a minimum. Still, there was something, wasn’t there... Sousuke had been a little more headstrong and selfish before. Now he seemed almost... docile. Makoto frowned as the thought hit him, Haru and Rin staring at him. 

“See?” exclaimed Rin, like he’d been looking for confirmation that he wasn’t crazy. “I swear it’s that woman-“ 

Haru sat up a little straighter, not speaking, but his eyes were fierce now. It seemed like Rin wasn’t the only one who didn’t like Ayame. Makoto blinked at him, a little surprised, but Haru had always felt things more strongly than any of them. He just never said anything about it until he was sure of his words, until he’d whittled them down to the least amount possible. 

“She doesn’t seem like a good person.” 

“She looks like she’s got really shitty intentions,” chimed Nagisa. 

Makoto pressed his lips together, recalling suddenly the conversation he’d overheard. He’d never imagined it possible that one woman could bring the great Sousuke down to his knees, but it seemed like she’d taken his kneecaps out very strategically until he didn’t even notice. 

“She’s slimy,” grumbled Rin. 

Everyone sat silently. Makoto wanted to laugh and say Kai was no better, but as soon as he thought it, he dismissed the words, like Kai would know he’d thought it. He looked around the room; nothing felt safe. Even surrounded by friends, Makoto was on edge, fear in his heart. 

Kisumi seemed the only one to notice, but everyone else was churned up by their own emotions. “We don’t have to talk, you know,” he told Makoto softly, wide, green eyes turning up to the other. Kisumi smiled at him and combed his hair aside. He pushed the milkshake up to Makoto’s lips with a wink. Makoto took a big drink before turning back to the others. 

“I think we should just be happy for Sousuke that he’s achieving his dreams,” whispered Makoto fiercely as he gripped too tight at his icy glass. “It’s what he always wanted, to be in the Olympics; we all know that.” 

Rin’s lips pressed bitterly together, and Haru gave a small nod. “You have to acknowledge that he hurt you!” Rin burst out. 

Makoto glanced at him. He smiled, a shaky, bitter thing, trying so hard. “What’s the point now? Everyone’s moved on.” _And so should I, but I can’t._ He didn’t say that. 

Rin ground his teeth, but he didn’t say anything. The clenched fist was enough to let Makoto know Rin was angry at him. But he couldn’t, god, he really couldn’t say it. To those little words were attached so many ugly emotions that Makoto wouldn’t dare unpack them, ever, but most definitely not now. 

Silently, sensing there was a need for a distraction, Nagisa turned to search for the remote, turning on the TV, finding the Netflix app. Makoto’s list was small, but there were some well-known classics on it, and Rei pointed out a show that looked good. Quietly, everyone accepted the change in the atmosphere. They slowly piled together, backs to the couch, silent as they drank their shakes. 

The first episode started and Makoto shut his eyes. Kisumi’s shoulder was surprisingly comfortable, and the blankets and bodies against him were warm. Slowly, laughter filled the air around him as everyone let go of their feelings and anger and just enjoyed the moment with him. This was all he’d really needed, he thought, to know that his friends were happy, that they could laugh and smile, quote lines and tell jokes. He would gratefully accept the gift they were giving him, the ability to feel okay for even just a minute. 

Soon, he’d have to worry about Kai coming home again and cleaning up the evidence of his friends, but for now, they could quietly be together, no need for words anymore because in the end it was their friendship and presence that mattered the most to Makoto. 

It was what he needed, but it was always a double-edged sword. Having his friends close like this made him miss them, made him ache when they were apart, and it made his time with Kai harder and harder to face. With a belly full of cold milk and his skin warm and fuzzy, he fell asleep about four episodes in. 

There was a peace he hadn’t felt in sleep in a long time, a dead silence, one of those deep sleeps you don’t remember when you wake but feel in your bones, weariness gone. When he awoke again, his friends would be gone, but the feeling would linger for a while, until real life busted through the door again. 

He awoke on the couch, tucked in, all traces of his friends gone. Maybe it had been a dream, but his belly was still full. He curled up to try to remember the feeling and protect his heart at the same time. 

Soon Kai would be home from practice. His silence throughout the day meant he would be in a foul mood when he got back. Makoto tried his best to mentally prepare, but he was just so tired already.


	12. Guilt

The small area where the vending machines sat at the Mikoshiba Aquatic Center was peaceful, and Makoto was tired and hiding out. If he went home now, the apartment would be empty, and he’d be alone with all of his thoughts and demons, so he sat in the little sitting area as he listened to the sounds of kids having fun and water splashing. Seijuro was in there teaching one of his weekly classes. Makoto felt a little bad having just shown up, but Seijuro had handed him some change and asked him to wait until his lessons were over, and then they would swim. He didn’t deserve friends like Seijuro, who were so kind and sweet to a mess like him. Makoto huddled around his can of warm cocoa, in one of Kai’s jackets. He liked that they were big on him, and warm.

Makoto had his eyes closed, cheek pressed to his pulled up knees when the bench dipped a little beside him. Startled, he opened his eyes to find Sousuke quietly sitting beside him, eyes turned down and hands tucked in the sleeves of his coat. Makoto blinked at him in surprise. He wondered why he kept running into the man when he was trying so hard to stay out of his life.

“Hey,” the taller male finally said, his voice soft and a little nervous.

“Ah... hi,” whispered Makoto quietly, his voice barely audible. Sousuke looked like he’d just come back from the gym, but he smelled fresh, his hair still a bit wet from his post-workout shower.

“I thought you might be here,” he said as he turned and smiled softly. It was so tender that it shocked Makoto, but soon the smile dropped and it was just regular old Sousuke, watching Makoto with a blank expression. Makoto thought to ask for clarification on the fact that Sousuke appeared to have been looking for him, but he pressed his lips together instead.

“How are you?”

Makoto nearly laughed. This conversation felt so awkward, and he wondered if Sousuke was looking for a true answer or just asking to be nice. “I’m okay,” he admitted as a half-truth, neither sounding too fake or being too real. “You?”

Sousuke shrugged, looked away. “Practice is hard,” was all he said.

“So you’re engaged now?” Makoto blurted out. He couldn’t believe he’d said the words. Sousuke met his wide eyes with a shocked look of his own.

Slowly, his surprise melted to his same passive expression. He rubbed at the back of his head. “Ah, yeah, I guess.”

Makoto blinked, confused by the answer. Sousuke seemed to notice his expression, as he gave a short, awkward chuckle and said, “It was sudden, huh? Yeah, for me, too. But, I mean, Ayame is a good woman, so why not... I guess. That’s what I thought anyways.” He scratched at his head again and looked away. 

Makoto frowned. Why did it sound like Sousuke had had no say in this at all? Hadn’t Ayame said Sousuke had proposed? Was it a lie?

“Well, it’s not like we’ll actually get married any time soon. You know, with me going to the Olympics and stuff.”

Makoto didn’t say anything; he wondered if Ayame was on the same page. It certainly seemed like she might have her own agenda.

Sousuke was silent for a while, and then he turned to Makoto and asked quietly, “Hey, did you ever think that you’d just ride the coattails of my fame while we were dating?”

Makoto blinked wide at Sousuke. He couldn’t even process that sentiment. “Wha-?” he asked in a squeaky voice.

“I mean, when we were dating, did you bet on me getting far? Was that the only reason we were together, you think?”

Makoto’s brain was malfunctioning. What was Sousuke even asking him? The other was scratching at his head again and trying for that awkward laugh.

“When I first told Ayame about you, she was so sure that you’d been grooming me, pushing me to work hard, and in the process ruin myself, so I could get to the Olympics. It was crazy at first, but then I started to think...”

Makoto stood up so fast that the bench clattered. Sousuke’s head jerked over in shock. Makoto was shaking, blinded by anger and his own guilt. How had his love been so easily twisted?

“I loved you,” he whispered, nearly in tears. “I loved you!” This time it came out more fiercely. His hands clenched tightly together, until it was painful. Sousuke just watched him like he was a deer in the headlights.

“As I thought...” he murmured to himself. “It was crazy to think that, huh?” He looked slowly away, lost in his own world. Makoto couldn’t move, frozen in place, trembling. Tears streamed hot down his face. He had loved Sousuke so much, so purely, and yet his intentions had been so easily marred and blackened. He turned his face away, his mind in turmoil. Back then, he hadn’t even known that love could be so strong, but he’d felt it nonetheless.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Sousuke said in a flat voice, but when Makoto looked up, his eyes were concerned, focused on Makoto. He reached out, hand just shy of touching Makoto’s, but he let it drop away like he’d rethought the action. “I just... wanted to make sure I wasn’t going crazy.” He scratched at his head again, a frustrated look on his face. “Sometimes Ayame says things and I get so confused.”

Makoto took a deep, long inhale of breath. God, why did he understand that feeling so well? Reality and fact distorted around Kai. Makoto felt out of touch.

“I mean, I’m crazy about her, but damn, she’s a lot to handle sometimes.” He laughed like it was a good joke, but Makoto didn’t find it humorous.

“At least you love her,” he whispered in a raspy tone, feeling so hollow. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be in a relationship that was rooted in love for each other. Had he ever known it? He’d imagined he had when he’d first started dating both Sousuke and Kai, but over time he’d grown less sure. The thing with Kai was slowly tearing him apart, but there was no escaping anymore. Kai had claimed him; Makoto was out of strength to try. He didn’t know if he could survive alone anymore; he’d become so dependent on the other that it seemed insurmountable to be by himself. If he just told himself enough that Kai needed him, loved him, it would all be okay somehow.

Sousuke looked up at Makoto again after a long while, watching the other.

“You look so small in that big thing,” he said slowly. He stood to his feet before Makoto and reached up to place a hand on Makoto’s shoulder. “Were you always so small?”

“No, I-“ Makoto began, but he stopped himself. He looked down, wondering why he couldn’t say he’d lost a lot of weight and the pride to hold himself up and stand tall. It was obvious to see, but the words didn’t come. He felt ashamed, for Sousuke to see him like this. That was the raw truth.

“I mean, I can see you’ve lost weight, but you seem shorter too.”

Makoto just nodded slowly. He couldn’t look up at Sousuke. It felt like the man would see right through him.

“I just... stopped eating as much after I quit swimming,” he said like it explained everything. The truth was he’d stopped eating at all for a while. Even now, sometimes he found food hard to stomach, and skipped a few meals. It seemed not as big a deal anymore as people made it out to be; Makoto couldn’t remember when he’d last eaten like a normal human being.

Sousuke’s hand was still on Makoto’s shoulder, but he didn’t say anything. Slowly, it slipped down Makoto’s arm, fingers skirting over the edge of his palm, before he let it drop away completely.

“I’m sorry if I did things that made it hard for you...” Sousuke was bad with words, but the apology was so genuine that it hurt Makoto’s heart to hear, in a good way that brought healing with it. He looked up with wet eyes and smiled at his ex-boyfriend.

“I appreciate that, Sousuke. I meant it when I said I was happy for you. I always knew you’d be amazing.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, eyes staring down at Makoto. He scratched at his ear this time, unsure of what else to say, so Makoto let him go with a smile.

“I’m sure Ayame is wondering where you are.”

Sousuke paused, something crossing his features that was gone too soon to be identified, and he nodded slowly.

“We should... talk more. Be friends again.”

Makoto was the one to scratch at his ear this time and give an awkward laugh, but Sousuke didn’t say anything else. Makoto finally just nodded slowly, not sure if he intended to actually do so. He was happy for Sousuke, but talking to him was very painful. There was a wall between them that neither could just climb over. They couldn’t just go back to how it had been before.

Makoto watched Sousuke walk away, sinking back down to the bench, waiting. He didn’t feel like swimming anymore, but maybe he’d just wade and let Seijuro carry him around the water bridal style. It made him feel weightless, and Seijuro was always warm.

Makoto finished his now-cold drink and sighed wearily. He wondered when he’d feel truly happy again.

x

Makoto held his tongue as Kai smiled at him. It wasn’t a kind smile at all, but still he held a hand out for Makoto and the brunet walked himself into the man’s embrace.

“You understand why I have to do this, don’t you? I really don’t want to hurt you, baby, but I have to punish you.”

The words had lost any hint of truth or sensibility a long time ago, but still Makoto found himself quietly nodding and accepting it as reality. Kai had found Seijuro’s swim jammers and made Makoto cut them to pieces.

“I don’t understand why you keep trying to run away from me and do things you know you can’t. Swimming is part of your old life. All you need now is to rely on me and my strength. Isn’t that nice, Makoto? You don’t have to do anything at all. Just let me love you.”

Tears came as Makoto wondered if he would ever know happiness again. His pride and joy was slowly being stripped away until absolutely nothing was left. He’d stopped communicating with his friends and with Seijuro on his phone. Most of the time now he just left the house when he was home alone and showed up at the pool. Seijuro never said a word, but Makoto was sure he knew better than anyone what was going on.

Still, he had to appease Kai. “You’re right, of course,” he whispered into Kai’s shoulder. He was warm and strong, but Makoto’s body rejected the comfort he tried to give, knowing the consequences of it now.

“Good. What do you say, my darling? Since I’m taking such good care of you and protecting you?”

“I’m sorry, Kai.”

Kai grinned, pulling Makoto back a little to beam at him. He stroked down Makoto’s hollow cheek. “Good boy.” He looked down at Makoto for a long while, and the brunet watched as slowly his gaze grew icy and his smile cruel. “But you should know this isn’t going to be enough.”

Makoto’s heart shot through the floor, leaving his body. Panic made his eyes go wide. “No, please, Kai, I’ll be better!” Panic hit him like a ton of bricks and he felt his lungs cave under the pressure. Like a roller coaster, it was always like this, but the highs were gradually getting closer to the lows.

Kai just laughed, clicking his tongue. “What a rebellious nature, Makoto.”

In one huff, Makoto was hauled roughly over Kai’s shoulder and carried to the bedroom. Makoto was choking on dry air and desperate pleas, but nothing was coming out except the rough pants for air. His mouth tasted like bile.

When he was slammed down to the bed, he nearly got whiplash. He felt an old injury in his neck shoot pain so blinding to his skull that his mouth and eyes shot wide open. He’d been so scared that night that Kai was going to break his neck. Now he was scared he might die. He clung to the sheets and tried to scramble away, breathing in short gasps that barely filled his lungs; he was hyper-ventilating.

A thick hand clasped around his ankle and yanked him back harshly, his hip popping as Kai once again clicked his tongue, a sound of annoyance this time. Makoto tried to sink deeper into the comforter like that would protect him, but there was nothing now to save him from Kai’s wrath. Makoto had stopped trying to find the reasons why Kai’s temper rose up at these unpredictable times. The man flipped Makoto over in a breath-stealing move, and suddenly Makoto’s pants and underwear were gone. His mottled, bruised ass was kissed by cold air, and Makoto screamed silently. Soft hands roughly squeezed at his backside, and Makoto had to bite his lip as tears came sudden and sharp.

“Makoto, darling~ Look what you’ve made me do to you... Oh, darling, you’re a mess.” The tone was so condescending and mocking that Makoto couldn’t rationally process it. In a desperate attempt to remain sane, he shut his brain off, curled himself inside his protective little box in his head. He disconnected from his body and the pain it would soon feel. Kai walked around and pulled out a flat, plastic rod that he’d kept from an old set of curtains at Makoto’s place. Makoto shut his eyes, shut himself down. His body lay limp, abandoned, his mind shutting him off in the only protection he knew. 

He disassociated.

When he woke up again, it was midday, and he had to peel himself out of the sheets. They stuck to bleeding and drying wounds, and he had to painfully pull them out of fresh cuts. He could barely wash his body without screaming, the soap making the millions of cuts on his body sting. He tried his best to wash without touching himself. Everything was sore and bruised. He let the water wash over him, until it was too much to bear. Stepping out into the steamy bathroom, he wrapped a towel gingerly around himself. On the mat just outside the shower, he stood for so long, feeling empty, so hollow, sheer fear of hurting himself more from the fall keeping him standing. All his body felt was pain; his mind disconnected from it. He stared dumbly as his reflection started showing up in slowly defogging mirrors. He stepped closer and slowly removed the towel from his body.

“Oh,” he whispered when he saw himself. He couldn’t even cry anymore. His skin clung to his bones; he was so small it was a wonder he could still do anything at all. He could count all of his ribs and feel the knobs of every vertebrae. He could wrap his whole hand around his arm, his fingers bony and ugly. His face was gaunt, no longer soft like it had always been, but it was the least horrifying part of himself. His legs were sticks, his knees so knobby. And all along his pale skin were dark splotches in varying colors: deep purples and reds, ugly yellows and greens. The cuts were deeper in some places than others. They snaked like dark crimson or brighter red across his skin, the fresher ones still bleeding a little. 

He slowly looked around, beginning a tiring search for band-aids or a medical kit. He found a few stashed away, and he gingerly applied salve when he could manage it, covering the freshest of the cuts as best as he could. When he had done all he could do, he pulled on an old sweater and lounge pants. They were his own, but they hung off of him like they were too many sizes too big. He didn’t look in the mirror again; he crawled into bed and under blankets and tried to pretend nothing outside his cocoon, nothing he couldn’t see, was real.

x

“Now’s really not a good time,” Seijuro said, his voice muffled by the door Makoto stood behind. It had been weeks since he’d come to the aquatic center, but Seijuro had quietly let him into his home. Now he stood inside the warm apartment, Seijuro and Sousuke outside.

“Please, I just want to talk to him. Have you seen him at all lately?”

Sousuke’s voice made Makoto want to cry, but he felt very little as he weakly leaned against the door between them. Sousuke had apparently been coming around and asking about Makoto every day, even showing up like this at Seijuro’s place when weeks had gone by without Makoto showing his face.

“Sousuke, I’ll tell him you stopped by, but maybe you should stop showing up so much. You have a fiancée now; how would she feel if she knew you were spending your free time asking around about your ex?”

There was a loud thump, someone shoved against the door behind Makoto, and he jerked in shock. Seijuro’s muffled voice hissed out a, “Calm down.”

“Ayame has nothing to do with this. I’m worried about Makoto, and I don’t like the way you’re hiding him. What are you covering up for him?”

“That’s none of your business, and mine either. Makoto is entitled to keep a few secrets.”

Sousuke hissed now, suddenly sounding closer. “I know Makoto relies on you, but I swear to god if I find out you’re using him, I will end you.”

Makoto blinked, listening to the sound of steps angrily receding until Seijuro gave a soft knock on the door.

“Are you okay?!” Makoto gasped as he yanked open the door. Seijuro gave him a warm smile and shrugged, rubbing at his shoulder.

“He didn’t hurt me, don’t worry.”

Still, Makoto fretted over the other. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

Seijuro just gave a soft, knowing smile, reaching out to ruffle Makoto’s hair. The brunet easily sank into his embrace, holding tightly to his only safety. Seijuro was slowly becoming the only thing to Makoto that felt like home. 

Soon enough, he was wetting Seijuro’s hoodie with his tears. “I’m so sorry, Seijuro. I lost your jammers-“ He couldn’t tell the redhead the awful truth. His hands still ached from cutting the fabric.

Seijuro was quiet as Makoto hiccuped and sobbed, rubbing gently at his back. “It’s okay,” he finally whispered, his voice genuine but distant. “It’s really okay. It happens.” If Makoto had been in a better state of mind, he would have understood how Seijuro was reassuring him, knowing full well that Makoto was lying, kindly letting him believe his lie hadn’t been found out.

“I have another pair, so don’t worry.” 

“No, I- I’ll lose them again.”

Seijuro combed Makoto’s hair softly. “I’ll get you a locker at the center, so you can just keep your things there.”

“No,” sniveled Makoto. He tried to pull back but Seijuro hugged him a little tighter. Makoto relented and sank against him. “No,” he murmured even in defeat. “I don’t think I should swim anymore.”

Seijuro didn’t say anything for a long, long time. Makoto too, had grown silent. All that there was between them was just Seijuro softly rubbing Makoto’s hair.

“Makoto, I know you love to swim. It’s okay. You don’t have to prove anything to me in the water. I just want you to love it like you always have.”

Makoto didn’t respond, so Seijuro leaned down and whispered, “I think you should keep swimming, Makoto. Isn’t it what your heart wants?”

Makoto reached up with shaking hands and clung to Seijuro’s back. He couldn’t say he was petrified to swim, of having Kai discover it again; he always knew... Makoto’s body was so abused that every moment felt like he would finally break irreparably. He didn’t feel strong anymore. He didn’t feel like he could take one more hit. He was sure he would shatter.

But still, inside him, his heart sang softly, still somehow alive. It dreamed of the water, and of being submerged. It dreamed of floating and diving, of swimming and sinking... In his heart, there was only the silence of the water.

“I’ll just prepare that locker for you, and anytime you want to, just come and swim. No pressure. It’s just there for you if you need it.”

Makoto bit his lip, but he didn’t respond. Seijuro was too kind, too good and pure for this world, or for Makoto, who was filthy and broken. He couldn’t even say thank you, lest his resolve break. Fear of pain was stronger than his own desires. He just couldn’t say that aloud.

x

Haru had a look on his face that was a very rare sight; he was discontent. He sat next to Makoto at Seijuro’s apartment, the redhead having just relayed the story from last night about Sousuke to the black-haired male. Makoto was still just trying to process why Haru was here. Apparently, he’d been hungry after swimming for way too long and Seijuro had offered him lunch. When Makoto had shown up, lunch for two became lunch for three, though Makoto was still picking at his mostly-full plate of food while the other two had finished long ago. Peanut Butter rested contently in Makoto’s lap, her warmth a blessed kindness he missed dearly.

Haru shifted his gaze to Makoto, but his expression didn’t change. In fact, it deepened. He looked down at the plate of food before Makoto and sighed wearily. There were a lot of unspoken words in Haru’s silence and eyes. Makoto shifted uncomfortably, and Seijuro glanced between the two.

“You have horrible taste in men, Makoto,” Haru said finally, his tone bitter. Makoto was surprised to hear him actually say the words. He’d known for a long time that Haru felt similarly to Rin on the situation, but he’d just never said the words aloud, unlike Rin, who would tell anyone plus the people in question right to their face.

Makoto shoved an edamame pea around his plate with his chopsticks. He decided not to comment.

Softly, though, Haru added, “At least you ate with Sousuke.”

Makoto looked up. He had barely heard what Haru had said, but the look on the other’s face kept him silent. Seijuro’s lips were set tightly, and Makoto felt like he wasn’t privy to a part of their conversation.

The silence stretched on for a moment until Seijuro turned to Makoto and smiled softly. “Eat some more, Makoto.”

Haru watched the two with his piercing blue eyes, taking their interactions in. He watched as Makoto slowly ate some more of his food, Seijuro praising him and encouraging him on, combing his hair. Haru pursed his own lips, thoughts a jumbled mess in his head.

Sousuke had really done Makoto wrong, but god, Makoto had never looked this bad until after he’d met that bastard Kai. Haru’s fists clenched under the table; he felt so damn powerless.

He couldn’t even imagine how Makoto felt. 

x

The apartment was silent. It had been silent for two hours, but Makoto sat pin-rod straight on a kitchen chair, waiting for Kai to come back any moment. His phone sat in his cupped hands. His elbows hung just over the table he sat at.

On his phone was a text message from Sousuke.

He didn’t know how the man had gotten his number. He didn’t know if Kai had seen it or not. The man hadn’t said a word when he’d left this morning, which wasn’t unusual, but Makoto felt so tense he was sick to his stomach.

He should delete the text. He should, but he couldn’t. He should, but he wouldn’t.

Sousuke had texted him to ask if he was okay. Makoto’s hands clenched tighter around his phone again; he couldn’t believe it. Makoto was unsure of how to react, much less how to feel. He was happy, overwhelmed, petrified, confused. He couldn’t figure out why Sousuke kept looking for him. His fingers shook as he read the text again, three words.

Sousuke would have never asked him that two years ago, but people changed, huh? Makoto scolded himself for his flushed cheeks and thrumming heart.

His feet shook as the minutes passed, each moment bringing him closer to Kai’s return home. When another hour passed and the fear and nausea didn’t dissipate, Makoto couldn’t take it anymore. His chair scraped harshly as he stood. He gripped the edge of the table.

He’d be in even more trouble if Kai figured out where he’d gone, but he couldn’t stand this any longer. He pulled on a jacket and nearly ran to the aquatic center.

The smells and sounds from inside were so goddamn comforting. Like anti-nausea medicine, the smell of the chlorine wiped Makoto clean of all of his anxieties, and he took a moment to breathe in the peace.

“Makoto,” said a soft voice that could only belong to one person, and Seijuro stepped out of his office with a gorgeous smile on his face. “I’m so glad you came.”

He didn’t ask how Makoto was, because when he was here, the world outside didn’t exist. Inside the aquatic center, inside Makoto’s safe zone, it was only good things and happy feelings. So Seijuro just rubbed at his head and smiled, Makoto ducking his head a little and shutting his eyes to accept his shows of affection.

“Here’s the combination to your locker. It’s number 32. Everything you need is in there.” Seijuro smiled, looking Makoto in the eye. “Take your time. I don’t have any more classes today.”

Makoto nodded, his heart swelling as he slowly made his way to the locker room. It was warm inside, the air heavy with moisture, and Makoto took a moment to sit down on a bench and drink it all in. There was nothing like this, the feeling so intensely nostalgic. So many good memories were tied to this smell and feeling. Some of his first memories were from another aquatic center just like this one, a long time ago, Rin and Haru hanging off Makoto’s neck, laughing. The three of them, thinking they could take on the world.

Makoto gave a short chuckle, irony twisting his lips bitterly. Where had he gone wrong, he wondered. He slowly stood and began to discard his clothes, the warmth and silence making him at ease. He didn’t even feel like this in Kai’s bathroom at home.

He was halfway through pulling down his pants, ready to bend down to remove his legs from those pants when he heard the sharpest inhale from across the room. Instantly, Makoto covered himself in shame, but it felt fruitless, his bare back exposed for the intruder to see. He was so afraid to see who it was, petrified to turn around. He almost prayed it was Seijuro. Heavy footsteps marched towards him, and in a desperate attempt to save himself, Makoto curled forward and yelled, “Please stop there!”

The feet halted as he’d asked, but he could tell the person was so close now. Oh, he could smell him now, and it was so much worse than he could have imagined. With wide eyes and fear on his face, he peeked over his slim shoulder to see Sousuke standing behind him, practically shaking. His eyes were wide and his lips were twisted in anger. It hit Makoto like a train wreck. The things he’d slowly accepted about his body, he knew, were grotesque. He’d never meant to show another human being. He burned with shame, and Sousuke’s face made it ten, no, a million times worse.

“Please don’t look at me,” Makoto sobbed in a tiny voice, but Sousuke’s eyes never left his body. Gorgeous teal eyes looked him over. Here was the pure definition of perfection, looking him over like he was looking at the filthiest thing. And Makoto knew that he was.

Sousuke took in his small frame and jutting bones, his bruises in all the shades of the rainbow and the cuts that were old and new, deep and shallow. Makoto’s knobby knees knocked together.

Under Sousuke’s breath, he whispered fiercely, “Who did this to you?”

Makoto’s head switched the words around, the meaning. He could only blame himself, couldn’t he? In his head, Sousuke was disgusted by him, but in actuality Sousuke was near to tears and speechless, ready to fight the moment Makoto said a name. His fists clenched so tight that his nails bit into the palms of his skin. Makoto was staring at the lockers before him in wide-eyed horror, as Sousuke’s face went through a slew of emotions unseen behind him.

Makoto was unbearably embarrassed. He grabbed at his clothes and tossed everything back on, hurriedly buckling his too-loose skinny jeans. He shut the locker before him and grabbed his jacket to his chest, needing to escape, to leave before his disgusting body was engraved in Sousuke’s mind. Makoto rushed past the other with an over-emotional apology, too shaky to feel the fingers that reached out and just barely grazed over his arm.

Sousuke whirled around, arm outstretched, but just like that, Makoto was gone. He slowly let his arm sink down again to his side. In his back pocket, his phone buzzed like _she knew_.

Anger rose in Sousuke, and he whipped around and punched his fist into the closest metal locker, number 32. He let the pain radiate. He felt sick. He dry-heaved as he leaned over to try to breathe.

What had he done? What had he let happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm 😏😏


	13. (Un)lucky 13

Makoto listened from under the covers as the front door unlocked and opened. He cowered under the blankets on the bed, where he had been hiding since he’d gotten back home, out of breath from running all the way from the aquatic center. He still had his clothes on; he hadn’t even been able to stomach removing them.

Footsteps moved around the apartment, slow, until they came closer and stopped in the doorway of the bedroom. There was a light chuckle, and Kai padded closer.

“Darling?” he crooned, and Makoto shivered audibly under his safety net. He pulled the blankets tighter around his curled up body.

First hands, and then a warm, big body slid into the bed behind Makoto. Big hands searched under the blankets until they found Makoto, wrapping around him.

“Baby, why are you hiding from me? Playing hard to get?” Another chuckle, warm and right in Makoto’s ear. He tried to jerk away, but he was tired, his body numb. Kai shuffled himself closer, creeping into Makoto’s safety fort. His hands roamed, touching Makoto here and there and pulling him closer.

“Please don’t,” Makoto whimpered.

Kai laughed, like this was still just a game. He teased Makoto more, purring into his ear. Makoto repeated that same words over and over to Kai, closer to tears each time, but the man didn’t stop.

With rough hands, he turned Makoto over to his back, crowding over him with a grin and rosy cheeks.

“Baby~” he crooned seductively, and it was so obvious what he wanted from Makoto.

But Makoto felt violently ill at the thought; before he could rationalize, as soon as Kai’s hands went for his belt, he smacked his own hands out and screamed, “ _I said no!!!_ ”

The silence that followed was _deafening_. Makoto couldn’t breathe as he watched pure rage fill Kai’s eyes.

“What did you say?” he seethed, low and threatening. “What the fuck... did you say?”

Makoto’s heart slammed into his rib cage, his eyes going so wide as he realized what had happened, but he just kept on shaking his head. He had to make Kai back off and see reason.

“I don’t want to!” Makoto yelped in a tiny voice.

Kai was growing more angry by the second, and in a last ditch attempt to save himself, Makoto scrambled off the bed and towards the bedroom door.

He never made it that far. A vice grip squeezed too tight around his ankle and Makoto fell off the bed face-forward, lips kissing the rough rug underneath and rubbing him raw on his palms and face. He screamed into the carpeting as he heard something snap apart in his ankle. His foot was hit with a jarring shot of pain, and his toes went limp. Something was broken, and Makoto sank down to the floor with a sob, his leg still held aloft, half his body still on the bed. 

With a petrifying ease, Kai hauled him back up to the mattress. He clambered over the other in a flash and Makoto couldn’t move at all as a hand closed around his neck. The last thing he saw was Kai reaching for that damn dowel rod as his vision went dark. His lungs screamed for air, eyes bulging out as he tried so hard to take in oxygen, but Kai had a death grip on his neck. Makoto wondered if death would feel blissful.

He was a split second away from passing out when Kai released his neck, but it was no relief. Air rushed into his lungs and along with it, a sharp _whap_ to Makoto’s clothed ribs. Pain that brought tears to his eyes cracked through his body, and Makoto wailed.

“Shut up, you fucking baby!” Kai boomed as he tore at Makoto’s clothes, yanking them off roughly, Makoto’s cheeks and neck going red. He tried to cover himself, afraid of the rod on bare skin; the next blow landed on his biceps, and Makoto screamed, head tilting back as his eyes went wide. A large hand clapped over his mouth and Kai hit him again. This time his scream was muffled.

“You will fucking listen to me, you ungrateful little bitch. I take care of you and love you, and this is the thanks I get?! Oh, _shut. Up!_ ”

Makoto tried to wiggle free, wailing against Kai’s hand. Again he was having a hard time breathing. He couldn’t see, couldn’t think; all he knew was that he had to get out or he would die.

He somehow managed to get on his side, Kai losing his stick, but that didn’t matter now. All he saw was red. He balled up his fists and began beating the shit out of Makoto bare-fisted as the brunet sobbed and begged for mercy.

His face, his shoulder, his arm and ribs, nothing was spared. Kai picked Makoto up and tossed him down hard to the floor, and he rolled until his back hit the door jam. His breath shocked out of his lungs, and escaping seemed impossible as Kai was on him again in a second. Something cracked, Makoto’s left arm falling limp in his lap as Kai reigned down his fists of absolute fury. He was screaming, mocking Makoto, yelling the foulest insults. 

Makoto was a mess of tears and snot and blood, his face and ankle already swelling. Kai reached blindly and found something else. When he lifted his arm up high again, all Makoto saw was a flash of silver before his arm slammed down and Makoto heard the most sickening crack. Suddenly, it was very hard to breath. He’d lifted his good arm to protect himself, but the blow had come low. His ribs and his bad arm had taken the brunt of the blow. Something was very wrong. Every shallow inhale brought a sharp pain, and Makoto was beginning to hyperventilate. 

Slowly he sank sideways to the floor, protecting his bad side as he curled around Kai’s leg in a ball just to find some kind of protection. But Kai just stood up and began kicking him, his face, his chest, his privates. A well aimed kick to the stomach made Makoto regurgitate the dinner he’d eaten god-knows-when. Makoto blacked out and was brought back by the pain over and over.

Finally, Kai’s blows slowed down, until he stood, dark, menacing, and panting over Makoto’s limp frame. Something clicked, and a strong hand gripped into Makoto’s hair and yanked him up nearly to eye level. His arm hung limp, and his foot was bent at a bad angle.

But despite the pain and throbbing, all Makoto could see was the glint of a pocket knife in Kai’s hand. Makoto’s eyes were wide and his swollen lips trembled around illegible pleas. Kai raised the knife.

“I’ll teach you a lesson, you ungrateful little bitch. Don’t ever fucking say no to me again. Maybe next time you’ll think twice about running out on me to meet with other guys.”

The knife slashed down and Makoto felt two sharp cuts slice across the lower half of his jaw. It was raw pain that got worse the longer it was there. Makoto passed out as Kai dropped him in his pool of vomit.

When he woke up again, stiff, cold, in pain and on the floor, his only thought was, he had to get out.

But go where? 

X 

The room was dark and deadly silent, save for the softest breathing of a body on the bed before Makoto. He knew that it was Kai, and he knew from sleepless nights of terror, sitting awake and fearing the moment Kai would rise, that he was asleep.

Slowly, so slowly, Makoto peeled himself off the floor, out of his drying blood and throw-up. His face was caked, but he didn’t even dare touch it. It throbbed and felt swollen, one eye already shut. He was naked, and his one arm was useless, his right leg screaming in objection if he even thought of putting weight on it. With his good hand on the wall, he thought first of the closest articles of clothing he could grab. There were lounge pants on the floor just by the door that Kai had tossed there two nights ago, and in the living room hung a jacket and hoodie. He lowered himself slowly down, desperate to not make a noise, and tried as best he could to blindly search for the pants. The moment his fingers grasped around them, he let out the quietest exhale of air. Kai shifted in the bed. Makoto’s heart flew out the roof.

Agonizing moments of dead silence and no moving, until he deemed it safe again. He opened the door, which was thankfully silent, and skittered out as fast as he could. He then closed it as much as he could without shutting it completely, knowing that would make a sound that could rouse Kai, and then he crawled carefully to the entry way. Pain shot up his leg as he jarred his ankle, but he didn’t have time to cry or feel it. He had to get out. Kai was still way too close.

At the front door, Makoto hauled himself up to sitting and pushed his good leg through the first pant leg. Next, he had to use his uninjured arm to get his swollen ankle and bad leg through the second pant leg. Thankfully the pants were way too big on him, being Kai’s. He had to bite back a scream or a sob way too many times, pausing each time with barely held breath to listen for signs of Kai rousing. The house was still quiet. 

Next, he hooked his good arm through a hoodie sleeve and a jacket, pulling the other side over his injured arm and buttoning the jacket shut one-handed. Another pause to check for sound, and then he reached out blindly for the lock on the front door. He had to pause and breathe here; this was the last step, but also the loudest. There was no way to escape the sound of the lock scraping open. He inhaled slowly, a deep breath, and then he very slowly slid the lock loose. It sounded grating, way too loud, but every time he paused, he was met with silence. When the lock finally clicked home, it was like Makoto’s heart roared to life. He twisted the knob and yanked the door open without thinking. It clicked, whined softly. Oh, he couldn’t breathe; fear choked him as he heard Kai shift in the bed behind him.

He had to go, he had to go, he had to get out _NOW_. He ground his teeth and knew he had to run for it, even if it destroyed his leg. He pulled the door open and ran out. He didn’t even shut it, didn’t look back. With his ankle screaming in pain, he ran. Down the stairs as quietly as he could, good hand clamped so tight over his mouth lest he make it this far and get caught now. But still the road opened up before him, and god, if he could just keep moving, move faster, he could be free. He hobbled as fast as he could, but every step on his bad foot slowed him down, until he was half a block away from the apartment and ducking into side alleyways, listening for the sound of pursuit. The street was so silent. He sank to his ass and tried to breathe, to calm himself. He had no plan. His plan had been just to get out alive.

He didn’t even have his watch or phone. What time was it? Were the trains still running? Surely not. 

A stone was kicked up and dinged against the pole of a metal sign. Makoto thought he’d died and left his body. A shadow cast over him, but the voice that called down wasn’t Kai’s.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Concerned eyes peered down at him. It was a woman, out for a really early morning jog.

Makoto’s jaw was so hurt and swollen that he could barely form words. He made a pained sound, and suddenly a light shone on his face.

“Oh my god!” cried the woman in horror. She nearly dropped her phone and light source. “I’m- I’ll call the ambulance for you-! Oh my god-“ She was starting to hyperventilate now. She was his only saving grace. He reached out with his good hand and grasped her free one as best he could.

“Pleaze,” he slurred, tears streaming down his bruised and bloody face. “Pleaze.” She lifted her phone to speak to the emergency operator.

x

Makoto heard the whine of the ambulance approaching and all he could do was shut his eyes and pray Kai didn’t come to investigate. He was clutching to the jogger’s hand like it was his only defense. She looked terrified out of her mind, but she hadn’t tried to pull away or leave. She sat squatted down next to him, telling him not to talk, worrying so much over someone like him. 

When the ambulance pulled up and he somehow was able to communicate for them to shut off the sirens through his new friend, she even offered to ride to the hospital with him, his hand now clutched in two of her own and to her chest. But he smiled as best as he could, a very broken thing, and thanked her profusely. She looked shaken as she stood alone on the street, clothes bloody, as they hauled him into the ambulance. He gave her the weakest finger lift, all he could do, his heart breaking as she finally burst out into uncontrollable sobs. 

The doors shut and Makoto was alone with a strange man. He was tiny, very slight, with a mess of black curls on his head. He fussed around, but for the most part worked quietly. Makoto shut his eyes and tried his best not to make a sound as his arm was strapped to his chest and his leg was iced. Tears slid silently down his temples and into his messy hair. Had he combed it this morning? He’d forgotten.

The hospital was roaring with life as compared to the silent alley and ambulance ride. The lights were too bright, and Makoto squinted his eyes shut, his whole face throbbing now. They pumped him full of drugs and soon enough the sweet embrace of feeling nothing and darkness took Makoto away.

When he awoke in a clean hospital bed, in a small, quiet room, he felt relieved, at first that he was still alive, but mostly that he was, in fact, very alone. Kai wasn’t here. Makoto couldn’t describe how that made him feel; he cried again, but for the first time in a very long while, his tears weren’t from sadness.

Beside him, the machine that monitored his heart rate beeped steadily. He shut his eyes and let it drown out everything else, until a soft knock sounded from his left. His head whipped around and his face screamed in protest. He was wincing when a cute little nurse popped her head in and smiled. She had short brown hair and a round face, a petite little thing.

“How are you feeling? Not good from the look on your face. Careful not to pull your stitches.”

Makoto opened his mouth to ask a question, but there were bandages taping his jaw that pulled at his skin. He gave a confused grunt.

“You have two deep lacerations on your jaw,” she explained calmly as she set her clipboard down and stepped up to the side of his bed. She calmly checked his bandages for bleed- through, asking about pain. He shook his head; he was numb to his toes. Whether it was shock or the IV in his arm providing drugs, he didn’t feel much of anything right now.

“We had a hard time finding a good vein. Have you been drinking enough water? The doctor noted you looked emaciated.”

Makoto was burning up with shame. He couldn’t look her in the eye anymore as she calmly checked under his thin blanket at his foot and the arm on his chest.

Finally, she looked at him and picked up her clipboard. Her voice was tender, but she was all business now. “Honey, do you think you could tell me your name and what happened to you? You can write it here if that helps.” She handed him her pen, and he took it with no intention to say a word. She definitely noted the way his hand shook.

“You’re safe here for the night, but if we don’t get some info from you, we’ll have to assume you’re the victim of a crime and call the police to speak to you.” Again, kind but firm, but Makoto only heard key words. Police? The monitor beside his bed began beeping faster.

A warm hand came to rest on his shoulder and the nurse said, “Darling-“

The flashback was too raw. Makoto dry heaved, his body trying to jerk away from her touch. She pulled her hand away in surprise, rushing then to try to make sure he didn’t jostle anything. She held him down on the bed as he let out a silent sob, her eyes wide with deep concern. He wondered what she was imagining, and if it even touched what he’d actually been through. Slowly, he turned again to lay on his back. With a stiff hand, shaky, he scratched with the pen the only thing he could think to do.

“Please call Mikoshiba Seijuro.”

She grabbed the clipboard from him as his hand slid away, the thing threatening to clatter down, and she looked at the note he’d written.

“Mikoshiba?” she asked, and he raised a finger, a slight little curl down to say yes. He couldn’t move his neck to nod. The drugs were rushing through his blood now from his heart pumping and his movement. He felt dizzy, but in a good way. The nurse turned, confused but determined. In a city as big as this, a name like that meant nothing, but maybe someone would know about the aquatic center.

x

When Makoto woke up the second time, there was light outside the window, but the blinds were shut and it was dim inside the room. It was better that way; he wasn’t sure if he could stomach looking down and seeing himself lying so frail and broken in the hospital bed. He wondered if the nurse had found Seijuro. He stared at the ceiling and tried to count the tiles, but it was too dark. The machine beeped and he felt like the drugs were beginning to wear off a little. His ankle and wrist throbbed, his face too. He wondered if he’d ever feel like himself again. He probably would never look like he had when he was 17 and in love and full of life. Kai had stolen everything... absolutely everything from him. Makoto only wished he’d realized it sooner.

To his left, there was a soft knock again, and the nurse came back in. “I found Mr. Mikoshiba, honey, and he’s here to pick you up.”

Makoto felt his gut turn. He hadn’t wanted them to call the police, but the thought of Seijuro seeing him like this broke his heart. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it. He slowly tried to shake his head, but the skin on his face pulled painfully, and he stopped, eyes teary as he looked up at the nurse. She blinked at him in confusion, but when she turned, he was already there.

He moved silently, stepping inside the small room and filling it. The nurse looked between the two, and determining that it was probably okay, she stepped outside, saying, “Just page me if you need me.”

The door shut behind her and the room was so quiet. Seijuro didn’t say a word, but his smell and presence alone were comforting to Makoto. He shut his eyes and lowered his chin as much as he could. He felt ashamed, trying to read Seijuro’s reaction in the silence.

Wheels rolled softly, Seijuro pulling up a rolling stool, and he sat heavily. He reached and took Makoto’s good hand in two of his own.

And then he lowered his head and cried. His silent sobs shook his whole body and made the stool squeak. Makoto shut his eyes tighter; he didn’t deserve these tears. Still, Seijuro cried.

When he was done, he wiped his face and quietly lifted his head. “You’ll stay with me, okay? I’ll take you home to my place.”

Home. Makoto wondered what the word meant anymore. The last home he’d known had been with his parents, but it was one he’d never know again. Sharing Seijuro’s home sounded as close to that nostalgic feeling as he thought he might ever get. Still he croaked out a broken, “Sei-“

“Shh,” the other hushed him quietly as he stood, his eyes red. A warm hand descended and pushed Makoto’s hair gently back from his forehead, petting him softly. “Let me just make sure you’re safe first. Please.”

It wasn’t a simple request. There was something so raw and vulnerable to Seijuro’s words, and Makoto kept quiet. He watched Seijuro step out to speak to the nurse, watched him sign paperwork through the open door, watched other nurses glance in with such sad expressions. Makoto turned away; it was too much. He felt like a hideous monster, inside and out. Kai’s words from the night before were still running around in his head. 

How had it come to this? He’d thought himself strong. He thought he could handle things. He had never imagined he’d be the one being picked up at the hospital, being taken home, being worried about and cared for.

When Seijuro wheeled the wheelchair in, Makoto turned away and refused to get in, or even look at it. How could it be that he needed that? He tried to clench a fist. His neck throbbed painfully. The nurse fussed but Seijuro just waved her off and lifted Makoto in his arms.

“Makoto, we’re going home,” he said firmly, and Makoto looked up in shock at Seijuro, who wasn’t smiling, who had a red face and red eyes. Seijuro, who looked like he was to blame. Makoto made a strangled sound of distress, his eyes swimming as he looked up at Seijuro. The man bent his head down and kissed Makoto’s head softly.

“I’ll carry you out like this,” Seijuro warned with a weary smile. Makoto gave a tiny nod, finally relenting. Quietly now, Makoto let Seijuro set him down in the wheelchair.

“Thank you for taking care of him,” Seijuro said as he turned Makoto in the chair towards the door. Makoto sank down and hung his head, ashamed again. A soft hand lighted his head and the nurse gave a soft reply.

“Of course. Take care of him.”

“Yes,” said Seijuro with so much determination. “I will.” Makoto let the tears spill down his cheeks. All he’d ever done was caused the people he loved trouble.

“Don’t tell,” he choked to Seijuro as the man lifted him into his car. He clung to Seijuro with his good arm. “Please don’t tell,” he begged with tears in his eyes.

Seijuro pressed his forehead to Makoto’s, a silent promise even as he didn’t say a word. But Makoto felt relieved as he was set down and buckled in.

“It’s just a short ride,” Seijuro said as he slipped into the driver’s seat and took Makoto’s good hand in his own. Quietly he pulled out of the parking lot and towards home.

x

Seijuro’s place did indeed feel like coming home. Makoto was bundled up in strong arms and the moment he walked through the door, a small mass of orange fur shot out of the darkness and towards Seijuro’s feet.

“Hey!” Seijuro yelled as he tried to find the light switch, Peanut Butter swirling anxiously around his feet so he couldn’t move. Finally he huffed and set Makoto down on the small bench by his front door. Peanut jumped up instantly into Makoto’s lap and the brunet accepted her, so grateful for his truest friend, as he pulled his cat to his face and snuggled into her soft fur.

“I’ve missed you so much, my Peanut,” he sobbed quietly into the cat’s side. Rough licks scratched across his cheek, licking aqua tears, soothing him like only Peanut could. When Seijuro was back, lights on, he scooped up the two of them to his chest and carried Makoto inside the apartment, to his bedroom.

It was a small space, only one small bedroom and a bath off of an open living and kitchen area. Makoto had never treaded past Seijuro’s bedroom door, but the space beyond was tidy and neat, and it smelled of a man, in a good way. When Seijuro set him down on his bed, Makoto protested.

Seijuro barely even let him talk, raising a hand and shaking his head. “Makoto, I won’t budge on this. You’ll sleep on the bed. You’re in no condition for anything else. You can just call my name if you need me, and I’ll come running, but for now you should get some good rest.”

Makoto looked around the room, hands shaking as he tried to fight his automatic urge to reject the kindness he was being shown. It felt odd to be the one being taken care of now, but more than anything, Makoto was tired, deep down to his bones, and his jaw ached even at the thought of talking too much. In the end, he just gave a tiny nod of compliance and tried his best to snuggle under covers. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Let me get you some better clothes.”

Seijuro moved around the room and gathered a shirt, a sweater, and flannel sleep pants. Slowly he undressed Makoto from his grimy pants and jackets. Makoto somehow felt okay as Seijuro worked quietly and meticulously, his eyes never lingering too long on one spot. He was gentle with Makoto’s ankle and arm, with his ribs and stitches. Makoto felt already warmer. Next, Seijuro wrapped Makoto in a blanket like a burrito, before pulling up the sheets and tucking Makoto in underneath. The weight and warmth was exactly what Makoto needed, Peanut a pleasant furnace against his chest. Before Seijuro had even made it to the door and shut off the light, Makoto was falling asleep. The last he heard was Seijuro, in a sad voice, wishing him to sleep well.

Makoto was sure he would never sleep better than this. The feeling of being safe was so foreign now that it felt unnatural. Peanut Butter calmed his crazy fears. But it was only his mind that was telling him feeling like this was odd. He knew; he could remember this being normal, to be safe and warm and loved. To know someone who would do anything for him was just a few doors away...

Still, Makoto had nearly forgotten the feeling. He was glad to know it again. He was glad he was alive. He was glad for too many things to name and sad for too many more. In gaining this new home and his wonderful friends, he had lost so many important things. He had lost himself, and for what? For a man? Makoto couldn’t do it again, not like that. He could die alone for all he cared in this moment; as long as he died his own person, that was enough.

That was all Makoto could ask for after being stripped of his identity and his very sense of self.

x

There was something warm and purring against Makoto’s chest, as he was waking up from a sleep that felt like death. He couldn’t move for a moment before remembering where he was, what had happened, and the fact that he was tucked in like a little potato under the sheets, safe. From the kitchen came the most heavenly smell, and Makoto began drooling on the pillow under his head as he lay unmoving. He slowly sat himself up and pulled himself and the blanket off the bed, Peanut dropping to the floor and following behind him. He hobbled slowly to the door, stopping there to open it. The moment it creaked open, Seijuro’s eyes were on him.

“Why are you out of bed?” he asked sternly as he rushed over and swept Makoto up into his arms again.

Makoto clung to his shirt. “I wanted to be near you. Don’t lock me up...”

Seijuro stopped, looking down at his friend. In all seriousness, he said, “I would never do that.”

Makoto nodded slowly, knowing he wasn’t lying. Seijuro was one of the very few people he’d trust with his life. A hand came up and caressed at his swollen cheek, gently. Makoto closed his eyes, letting the warmth and scent fill him up.

“Do you want to take a warm bath or eat first?”

Makoto’s stomach growled in response, but still he tried to shake his good hand and say he was okay. His cat meowed sadly at Seijuro’s feet.

Seijuro frowned deeply. “Makoto, you’ll eat everything in the bowl I give you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Makoto frowned. He hated this topic. He felt it had been beaten into the ground; his lips twisted down a little bitterly, rebellion like a wild streak rising suddenly.

Warm lips pressed against his temple and Seijuro lingered there like he was taking a moment to ensure Makoto was really there. “Please, Makoto,” he husked, emotional. He sighed slowly, and Makoto felt his warm breath over his own face. “Please, you need to start eating again.”

Makoto gripped at Seijuro’s shirt, realizing very suddenly that this was not the issue to fight anyone on. It was one of the many things Kai had taken away from him, and why couldn’t he just admit that he was hungry? He slowly nodded. He knew it was true, but he’d almost forgotten how it felt to be really hungry. It had become such a common thing to feel starved that Makoto had forgotten it wasn’t normal, and so he wondered what had happened to the empty, hollow-in-your-stomach feeling.

“Okay,” he whispered as he laid his head to Sousuke’s shoulder. He was carried to the couch, where he was tucked into a corner with his blanket, and Seijuro went to make him a bowl of food. It was porridge, thick and smelling so yummy. How long had it been since Makoto had had homemade rice porridge? The bowl wasn’t too large, but still Makoto took it with apprehension. Would he be able to finish it? He took one small bite, letting the memories flood back. It was a slightly different taste, but still so nostalgic. Every time he’d gotten sick, his mother had made this for him, doting over him so sweetly and lovingly just like Seijuro did now. He hoped his mom was looking down and happy to see them together like this. 

Before Makoto knew it, he was crying over his bowl. Seijuro was quiet as he sat next to the brunet, staring at the wall before him. He didn’t say a word, and Makoto didn’t know what to say either. There was an air around the other man that Makoto was afraid to ask about. The knowing look in Seijuro’s eyes scared Makoto, who had tried for so long to keep it all under wraps, but slowly everything was coming out into the open. His mother would have cried if she was still here to see the state of her baby boy now. Regret crippled his heart.

He couldn’t go back. Kai terrified him; he always had, but the breaking point had finally come, and Makoto had realized that he wasn’t living if it was done in such crippling fear. So many things had been stolen from him, but it wasn’t like he was strong and taking a stand. No, he was weak and simply running away, hiding. It was all he knew how to do; it was all he thought he could do at this point.

Quietly, Seijuro looked over at Makoto, picking up the spoon that lay still in Makoto’s hand, scooping up some of the food and raising it to the brunet’s lips. Makoto slowly parted them and took the bite offered. One by one, until the bowl was all gone and Makoto felt stuffed to the brim, Seijuro fed him like that. He never said a word, and Makoto couldn’t look at the broken expression on the man’s face for more than a moment. When the bowl was finally empty, Seijuro took it quietly into the kitchen to wash it out. His silence felt almost more deafening than screaming, and Makoto wished the redhead would ask him something, say anything at all, just so he could apologize, so he could say he’d never meant for this to happen...

“You can stay here. For as long as you need,” Seijuro said softly as he stepped back into the living room with a towel in his hands. Makoto looked over at him with a wet face. He bit his lip; he wanted to say he shouldn’t, but where else could he go, and did he really have the strength to leave?

Golden eyes regarded him carefully, attuned to Makoto’s every micro-expression. Seijuro set his towel down and came back to the couch, kneeling down before Makoto and cupping his cheek. He rubbed at the hot, wet skin.

“You’re doing the right thing. Don’t you dare think this is weakness; you are so strong.” Makoto chewed his lip harder, dropping his head as he shook it.

“This isn’t selfishness; it’s what you needed to do,” Seijuro continued in a strong voice, knowing his words to be absolutely true. Makoto let out a rough sob. Seijuro calmly wiped away the tears that spilled.

“It’s okay to be scared,” he whispered finally. “But I’m telling you that you don’t have to be. Not anymore.”

Makoto sank forward and dissolved against Seijuro’s shoulder. Warm arms wrapped around him and he clung to Seijuro’s shirt as he wailed. He didn’t know how to describe this feeling; it was different from the way Kai broke him. This felt healing, and good. Slowly he would put himself back together again, with no one to tell him how. He could become himself again, or some version of what he’d been.

Peanut Butter pressed between them into Makoto’s lap in concern, and Makoto released a hand to hug his cat to himself.

“I’m sorry, Seijuro. I’m so sorry. And... thank you... from the bottom of my heart...” Sobs broke his words apart, but Seijuro understood him regardless of that. He simply nodded and hugged Makoto a little tighter.

He pulled back a little and smiled as Makoto quieted, wiping the smaller man’s face. “When you’re ready, I want to tell you a story about someone I used to know.”

Makoto nodded slowly, wiping his face. “Okay,” he choked out quietly. “I’ll let you know.”

That night Makoto slept like a log, no dreams, no worries of what the morning would bring. In this little apartment, sharing space with Seijuro, he would slowly heal himself, his mind and his body. These things took time, but suddenly all of the time was Makoto’s, and he decided that he would do right by himself and take the time he was given and use it for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🥰🥰🥰


	14. An Uphill Battle

He regarded Seijuro coldly, but for the most part, the redhead ignored the man standing in front of his family’s aquatic center.

“Where is he?” seethed Kai. He looked bad, far too angry to be let out into the world. And he was on a mission.

Seijuro kept his lips sealed tight, not even sparing the man a glance as he unlocked the front doors. Heavy footsteps closed in on him, but Kai did nothing but breathe heavy on the back of Seijuro’s neck.

“I know you know where he is. You have to.” Clenched fists shook by Kai’s sides. Seijuro glanced down for a moment before resuming with his door-opening. “You have to tell me what you know. He’s my boyfriend!”

Seijuro looked over his shoulder with the coldest expression, and Kai actually took a mini-step back, surprise flickering across his face. He hadn’t thought Seijuro had it in him, but if anything made the redhead feel hot under the collar, it was threats to the people he loved.

“He doesn’t owe you anything. He doesn’t belong to you. If he’s gone, then he’s left you. Be a man and let him move on.”

“Fuck you!” Kai screeched. “You’re the one who made him unhappy by feeding him lies about me!” Something like insanity flickered through Kai’s eyes, and Seijuro took a wary step back. He wasn’t afraid, but he would be smart; he had someone to protect.

Instead of giving Kai’s crazy comments any power, he dismissed them as he changed the subject. “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re not open yet, so you’ll have to stay outside.”

Kai took a step forward, and Seijuro matched him in an instant. He squared his shoulders, his tone changing at the drop of a hat.

“I can have you forcibly removed if you’d rather. Don’t ever step foot on my property again.”

Seijuro slowly turned, and this time Kai didn’t follow. He walked into the aquatic center alone, Kai left out in the bitter cold. It made Seijuro a little glad to see the bastard suffer, though it wasn’t nearly enough. It never would be, not for what he’d put Makoto through. That man was a waste of space; a roach would serve more purpose. Seijuro hoped Kai’d get what was coming for him when Karma came back around to collect. That man had been able to do what he’d done for far too long without anyone finding out, and Seijuro refused to let it go on any longer with Makoto or anyone else.

Seijuro fisted his hand, regret washing over him. He wished he’d done something from the very beginning, the moment he’d figured it out, but he’d known absolutely that leaving Kai had to be Makoto’s choice. He’d seen the consequences of forcing someone to leave their abusive partner; he wouldn’t risk that with Makoto. Still, it tore him up that he’d known for a long while what was happening and had been unable to do a thing, to watch Makoto quite literally waste away. Seeing Makoto now was inexplicably hard to swallow. He was barely skin and bones, something even less solid than that, and Seijuro thought a strong wind might make Makoto vanish. He’d tried to put on a brave face for so long, if only to be a little bit of support to Makoto where he could be, but his composure had cracked the moment he’d seen the brunet so tiny and broken in that hospital bed, a cruel reminder of how weak a human could become.

He’d make up for it. He’d spend his whole life doing so if he had to. This wasn’t just about Makoto; this was personal. Seijuro would never let the ones he loved suffer like that ever again. His resolve was titanium.

He began turning on all the lights, making sure the pool was being heated properly and cleaned. An hour later, he went to unlock the doors and turn on the open sign. He’d barely turned away when the door opened behind him, and he whirled around, heart racing.

Aqua eyes met Seijuro’s, and he froze. Sousuke looked at him, unblinkingly, face passive. He stepped inside and let the door close behind him.

“You’re here pretty early if you’re coming to swim,” Seijuro said carefully. Knowing the history between Sousuke and Makoto had him treading on thin ice.

Sousuke slowly shook his head. “I have practice in an hour. I was just...” He stopped there, which was unusual. Seijuro had been walking back to the locker room to get ready for his classes, but this made him pause and turn back. Sousuke was watching him with such an intense look.

“You must know something about Makoto, right?” the dark haired man said, suddenly bitter, his lips twisting like he hated it. Seijuro recognized the sour look of jealousy instantly. It was so different from Kai’s pure rage, but nearly rivaling it in ferocity. Seijuro sighed and shook his head. Makoto had begged him to say nothing, and it wasn’t like Sousuke would be someone he’d share the info with anyways.

Sousuke took a step forward, a flash of anger in his eyes, but it shifted to frustration. He bit at his lip and clenched his fist. “I haven’t seen him in days, and no one will tell me anything. I just want to see him and make sure he’s okay!”

As much as he understood Sousuke’s frustration and could easily put himself in the man’s shoes, Seijuro stared back with a blank expression. “Why?” In Seijuro’s eyes, Sousuke was just as much to blame as Kai.

The other man blinked in confusion. “Why what?”

“Why do you have to see him and make sure he’s okay? He’s just your ex.”

Sousuke’s lips twisted like he wanted to say something mean, but he stayed quiet. 

“Look, if you are worried about him, he’s in good hands now. But don’t come around and pretend like you suddenly care if you don’t; it will only make it harder on Mako-“

There was a flicker of something in Sousuke’s eyes, a moment of realization, of guilt and regret, and he shivered quietly. “I’m glad he’s safe,” he whispered to the floor, though he sounded a little stubborn as he said it. Seijuro wondered why Sousuke wanted so badly to see Makoto; did he even understand why himself? Seijuro looked Sousuke’s body language over, wondering if Sousuke understood why he was even here. The redhead gave his own bitter smile to the ground.

_Why couldn’t you have figured this out years ago, dumb ass?_ “Will you tell him that I-“

“No,” Seijuro interrupted sternly. He would tell Makoto nothing. The boy needed to heal and not worry about fools like Kai and Sousuke.

Sousuke faltered a little, frustration rising again. “When will he be back around-“ “I don’t know, Yamazaki. I’m not going to rush him.”

Sousuke’s eyes darted up and went wide. “So you do know...” He bit his lip and stopped his words.

Seijuro sighed and took a step forward. If he had to spell it out, he would, not for Sousuke’s sake, but for Makoto’s.

“Hey, dude. I suggest you take this time to think about what you want from Makoto. If you’re just trying to soothe your own ego after a bad break-up, please stop. Makoto doesn’t need shit like that, and leaving him alone is the best apology you can give him in that case. Don’t you dare make him think you care for him when you’ve got a fiancée and no other intentions but soothing your own pride.”

Sousuke’s lips twisted and his hands fisted tighter, but he stayed quiet. Finally, he turned and walked out. Seijuro didn’t think it’d be the last time he’d see Sousuke. If his hunch was correct, Sousuke would be back.

x

“I think you can take the bandages off now,” Seijuro said one night over dinner. Makoto glanced up with wary eyes. He’d been slowly working on his plate of food, since Seijuro insisted every night that he eat everything the other gave him. It was never a full plate like Sei himself ate, but it was much more than Makoto had been eating in the past years. He wasn’t wasting away anymore.

Makoto self-consciously reached up and touched the gauze over the scars on his jaw. He’d been covering them, and Seijuro had taken care of them well after his stitches had been removed, but Makoto knew no amount of care or cream would make the huge scars totally disappear. He hadn’t looked at the wound, ever. He’d been too terrified every time Seijuro had changed his bandages, though the man had always told him it wasn’t as bad as he assumed.

“You’re still handsome, and you’re still you,” Seijuro reminded him again with a smile. He reached across the table and took Makoto’s hand in his own, his big and warm around Makoto’s slim fingers. Green eyes drifted down to their joined hands, to the plate of food on the table before him, and he wanted to cry. Everything with Seijuro felt overwhelming; he had forgotten even about basic human decency, and so everything Seijuro did felt like too much. He was too kind to Makoto, and Makoto didn’t know how he’d ever repay this.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” whispered Makoto to the table. Seijuro squeezed his hand.

“It needs to breathe, so I should take the bandages off, but you don’t have to look if you’re not ready.”

Makoto thought that might be easy considering he barely looked in the mirror anymore anyways. His arm was still in a cast, but his foot was slowly healing too. It had only been a few weeks, but Makoto wasn’t constantly petrified, and he was allowed the time to heal properly. He was gaining weight too, he could tell, but still looking at the scars on his body and the way he had failed himself in so many ways was too harsh of a reality even in the safety of Seijuro’s place.

“Okay,” Makoto finally said solemnly, petting Peanut, who sat on his lap. The cat rarely left his side these days; Makoto spent most of his time watching TV now and cuddling with the orange Persian. It was a good rest for his soul to feel so relaxed and at ease for the first time in a very long time. His demons were quieter when he was with Peanut Butter and Seijuro.

After dinner, Seijuro waiting patiently for Makoto to finish his plate, they washed the dishes together, dried everything and put it away. It was the least Seijuro would let Makoto do, even though it still wasn’t much since Seijuro was quick to steal tasks from Makoto with a smile.

“How’s your ankle?” Seijuro asked as Makoto picked up his crutch.

The doctor had told Seijuro it was just a bad sprain, and Makoto had been diligent to keep off of it. It had been hurting less these days, but he still had at least two weeks before he could put weight on it. He gave Seijuro an optimistic smile, which felt odd on his face. The bandages still made it hard to smile, and his skin was tighter now around the right side of his face. Makoto shut his eyes, again feeling fear rise.

A warm hand cupped his left cheek and settled the rising nausea. “Come on, let me take a look at your pretty little face.”

Makoto gave a nervous laugh, Seijuro beaming wide. There was a beat of silence, and their smiles slowly fell away. The reality of the situation was still depressing, and Makoto felt odd at times laughing and being happy. Thoughts like whether he deserved it liked to sneak up when he least expected it. Makoto reached out and gripped his fingers at Seijuro’s shirt, slowly rubbing it as he dropped his head down. They hadn’t mentioned anything else, but Makoto hadn’t forgotten what Seijuro had said. Quietly, he gathered his courage and whispered, “Sei, will you tell me that story now?”

Seijuro was quiet for so long that Makoto looked up in wild worry, but the other man was smiling ever so softly, his eyes distant and staring off above Makoto’s head. Maybe Makoto shouldn’t have said anything- It was probably hard for Seijuro to talk about. But when he focused his eyes back on Makoto, he smiled a little bigger and nodded.

“Come on, I’ll tell you while I take your bandage off.” Together, they made their way to the small bathroom off the living room, and Makoto took his usual spot on the closed toilet lid.

Seijuro bent before him, his little medical kit out, hands washed. He reached up and began slowly working the tape off of Makoto’s face, careful to not pull too hard.

“I don’t know if I ever told you, but I had a sister. She was the sweetest person that ever lived. In so many ways, you remind me of her.” Seijuro gave Makoto a smile, before dropping his eyes again. “She was beautiful, of course, and she had a lot of guys after her. My brother and I tried our best to keep them away, but she still had a few boyfriends here and there. She was always strong through the break-ups, independent, but she relied heavily on us, her two brothers, for support and affirmation. Slowly, I began to realize that beneath her smile, my sister had terrible self-confidence, her many relationships becoming the way she assured herself she was worthy. Most of the guys she dated were nice, but in the end they started to realize her bad tendencies and decided to break it off. My sister only saw this as proof that she wasn’t worthy. For a long time, I convinced her to be single and just learn how to love herself. And she was learning how, for years, we all thought. But when she came back home after four years at college, she brought home a guy with her.”

Makoto worried his lips together; he was so caught up in the story that he didn’t realize that a lot of what Seijuro was saying could have been about him and not the other’s sister. His heart ached for the sister like it had never ached for himself. He couldn’t see it.

“At first he was really nice and gentlemanly, and my parents adored him, but I noticed the way she was around him, and even without him around. She smiled less, she looked always lost in thought. She forgot things regularly and was very self-deprecating when she spoke about herself and her failures. I swallowed my words, but soon she barely felt like my sister anymore. She was becoming an empty shell.” 

“And then I started seeing the bruises on her body.”

Makoto swallowed, but Seijuro’s eyes were trained on his task, as he cleaned Makoto’s scars and applied ointment. The look on his face was heartbreaking. Makoto recognized the self-anger and the regret.

“When I first saw it, I got mad at her and demanded she tell me what happened. She laughed it off and said she was just clumsy. But more and more bruises showed up, and the more I asked, the more she refused to talk to me. Finally, I stopped asking. I stopped asking, but I never stopped begging her to break up with her boyfriend. She would cry and tell me she loved him. I didn’t know what to do. I was only 17.”

“It wasn’t your fault-“ Makoto choked out, but the twist of Seijuro’s lips made him fall silent. Seijuro probably knew that better than anyone, but it didn’t mean that he’d ever stop blaming himself for it.

“She started losing weight. She cut all her hair off and dyed it, did her make-up differently, wore different clothes. She became someone I didn’t recognize. Still, whenever she brought her boyfriend over, she clung to him, so affectionate towards the man who beat her. I couldn’t stomach it, and I stopped talking to her. I didn’t know what else to say when all of our talks always ended up with me angry and yelling and her crying.

“I didn’t speak to her for four months, and then one day my parents got a call from a hospital two hours away, to say that my sister had been admitted and her boyfriend arrested. They’d found her being brutally beaten within an inch of her life after a neighbor had complained about the noise. If they’d been too late, she would have been dead.”

“But when my parents and I arrived at the hospital, my sister was silent and morose. She refused to speak to our parents. They left me and Momo there, to sign paperwork and speak to the doctor. I begged my sister to tell me why she hadn’t said a word, why she hadn’t left him. And she turned to me with this look on her face that was so far removed from reality, her eyes glittering through the swelling around them, and she smiled as she said once again how much she loved her boyfriend.”

“I had never been so angry. I blamed her for everything and she quietly took it, smiling softly as I told her all the things she should have done differently. Momo clung to me and cried. When my parents came back, I was nearly inconsolable myself, but my sister just kept smiling.”

A warm hand startled Makoto out of the trance he’d gone in listening. He was staring off into the distance, thinking that he could relate to the sister, thinking he should never say those words aloud. Even knowing he’d been in that very position just a few weeks ago made him sick to his stomach. He twisted his hands into his shirt. Kai had been so sweet and wonderful when they’d first met, and Makoto thought maybe he’d always been holding out hope _that_ Kai would one day return. He couldn’t tell Seijuro, but he missed that Kai, the Kai he’d thought the man was, so much sometimes that he wondered what would happen if he just went back to see him. He pressed his lips together. He wasn’t much different than Seijuro’s sister in the end. He looked up at the man with wet eyes and pressed into his palm, lips white and thin, afraid to say the wrong thing.

“Over the next few months, as she spent time in rehabilitation, in therapy, she was slowly becoming her old self again, but we were all so happy that we were unable to see how she blamed everything on herself. She didn’t tell us a word of what had happened between the two of them, but some days I would find her crying alone in her room, and she would smile at me so sadly. I knew, somehow, I knew that she still missed him. I found letters of their correspondence as he was in prison. I knew he’d be out soon. I was worried she’d go back to him; I begged her not to. Still, the therapy was helping, and she assured me she would never, ever go back to him. The day he was released from prison, I found her. She had slit her wrists in the bathroom of our family home, quietly, without even a word. In her hand, she gripped her phone, opened to a single note.”

“She still loved him. She knew she would go back to him if he asked her to. She absolutely knew she couldn’t. So she decided that she would rather take her own life while she was in control of herself, instead of having it all stolen from her by someone else.”

Seijuro’s voice never wavered, but the tears streaming down his face told a different story. Makoto didn’t know what to say. He reached up his good hand and placed it as a mirror imagine on Seijuro’s cheek.

“In the end, she had decided to deal with everything herself, and I know... I know if I hadn’t pushed her away when she needed me, things might have been different.” Golden eyes shifted to Makoto’s, the words on his lips falling to silence at the look on Seijuro’s face. Makoto knew he couldn’t touch that regret in a million years, not when he knew so well how easy it was to convince yourself of that.

“I told myself I would never let it happen again.”

Makoto looked up into fierce eyes, filled with determination, with love. Seijuro stroked at Makoto’s cheek.

“Saying that, I don’t want you to think I’m doing this out of penance, or as some way to make myself feel better. I care about you, Makoto, like my own family. It tore me apart to not say anything, but I knew I couldn’t force you to leave like what had been done to my sister. She’d been forced away from him with too many lingering feelings and regrets, and in the end she hadn’t been able to deal with that. As painful as it was, I wanted you to be the one to decide.”

It was the first time Seijuro had really acknowledged what had happened to Makoto. He’d always known the other knew, but still, to hear him say it was shocking to Makoto. He swallowed harshly.

With all of the sincerity in Makoto’s beaten-up little heart, he whispered his thanks to the man who had saved his life. If the only thing he could ever do to repay him was to never go back to Kai, he would do that at the very least. Because unlike Seijuro’s sister, Makoto had come to the point of realizing that as much as he missed Kai’s old self, that person was never going to come back. While Makoto was not strong or self-reliant in anyway, he was slowly becoming sane enough to realize that the thing he’d had with Kai had never been love. If he hadn’t had Seijuro there, to be there for him, to catch him when he reached the end of his rope, Makoto thought his story might not have been so different from Seijuro’s sister’s.

Slowly, Makoto stood to his feet. With sudden clarity, he knew now that he had to face what had been done to him, that he had to see it and accept it, so that he wouldn’t ever waver in his resolution. Seijuro gave a small noise of denial, but he fell silent and let Makoto go. Makoto used the sink to pull himself over in front of the mirror. His fingers pressed white against the porcelain. He was petrified. It wasn’t until Seijuro came to stand behind him, a hand on his back, a warm, supportive whisper of, “This doesn’t change who you truly are, Makoto,” that he was able to look.

Slowly, Makoto lifted his eyes and took a look at himself. The dark circles under his eyes were gone and his face was beginning to fill out a little. The bruises around his neck and on his face were fading, the swelling gone. He could almost recognize himself again. The only thing that was starkly different were the two nasty scars, in an x, one cutting from the middle of Makoto’s cheek down to just below his chin, the other starting a few inches from the corner of his lip and tracing down to halfway on his neck. The skin was stiff, the scar a soft pink as compared to his pale skin. He had a hard time lifting his chin to see it all because it was so tight.

Over his shoulder stood Seijuro, watching Makoto carefully, and when their eyes met, he smiled at the other man, a genuine, loving thing, and Makoto knew that, while this scar would always be a reminder, it didn’t have to define who he was or stop him from being strong again. He had people who loved him, who would see past the scar. Even if there was never anyone who could love him like he wanted to be loved, he would always have the strongest support system by his side. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to share everything that had happened with everyone, but at the very least, he knew Seijuro deserved the truth.

Makoto took the rest of the night to organize his thoughts and feelings, and that night, with Seijuro sitting on the couch beside him, Makoto quietly told the man about himself and Kai.

Kai would always be a part of his story, but Makoto was cutting his ties to the man here. He knew it wouldn’t be instant; he knew he would have nights where he wanted to cease existing, and he knew he would probably always blame himself a little for what had happened, but Kai didn’t define him any more. He could be stronger than that.

And maybe, maybe one day he could learn to love himself again, and be kind to himself, and treat himself with the respect that everyone else said he deserved.

And most of all, Makoto realized that there were people he missed, people he really wanted to see. Haru, Rin, Nagisa, Rei, Kisumi. He had left his phone at Kai’s and hadn’t said a word to anyone. He looked at Seijuro and fiddled his fingers, the other man smiling sweetly at him like he could read Makoto’s mind.

“How about I get you a new phone tomorrow?”

Makoto nodded with everything he had. Then quietly he said, “I have money, hidden away at the club. I can pay you-“

But Seijuro just shook his head and smiled. “Let’s just worry about getting you back in contact with your friends first.”

“Some of them will be very angry,” Makoto bemoaned softly. Seijuro just puffed his chest out and laughed.

“It’s only natural. I got to hog you all to myself for a long time. I’m being quite kind to share you even now,” he said with a grin. A big arm wrapped around Makoto’s waist and he was pulled into Seijuro’s embrace. The man laughed softly against Makoto’s soft, brown hair. “Sorry for being selfish when it comes to you.”

Makoto rested his head on Seijuro’s chest, listening to his heart beat with a smile on his lips. “It’s okay,” he whispered truthfully, gripping again at the man’s shirt. He shut his eyes and tried to remember this feeling for later, when things might get hard again.

He would probably need all the strength he could get just to face Haru’s wrath. 

x

Seijuro rolled his eyes as he walked out of the pool area after his last class of the night. Sitting alone, lit only by the light of the vending machine beside him and the phone in his hands was Sousuke. Seijuro flipped the light switch in the small corner of the aquatic center and leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“Are you waiting for something? You look kind of creepy sitting here in the dark.”

Sousuke looked up at Seijuro, his face never changing. “You know why I’m here,” he said calmly. “I would like to see Makoto. No one can get into contact with him.”

It was no wonder since they’d be going tonight to get Makoto a new phone. At least no one but Seijuro was lying to the poor dude. He’d been showing up nearly every day now, asking about Makoto, and Seijuro wasn’t sure whether he should feel bad for him or be annoyed. He shrugged his shoulders as he stood up again.

“Go home to your fiancée,” Seijuro said as he waved over his shoulder at the man. Behind him, there was a short scrape. Sousuke’s voice boomed through the empty hall.

“Listen, I don’t know what happened, but I don’t think it’s right for you to just hide Makoto away from the world. I mean, what gives you that right? You barely know him!”

Seijuro turned around, raising his hands, but still he said cryptically, “I know him a lot better than you ever will.”

Sousuke looked like he’d popped a blood vessel as anger flared up in his face, but Seijuro turned and walked away again, leaving the other man behind.

He was almost jealous. If Makoto knew Sousuke was asking around for him, would he be happy? What would he do? Seijuro frowned and scratched at the back of his neck. Maybe he was being selfish...

Just a bit.

Still, he was okay with that. 

x

The screen lit up against Makoto’s face in the dark. They’d driven across town, but still Makoto was sporting a beanie and a hood. He smiled first at the phone and then up at Seijuro in the dark car. Seijuro watched him with his own smile.

“Do you need their phone numbers?” he asked as he pulled out his own phone.

“Let’s start with yours,” Makoto said with a smile as he leaned over so they could transfer the data. Seijuro was warm, and he smelled like chlorine.

After they’d transferred all the contacts that were relevant to Makoto, he sat back and quietly asked, “How was your class today?”

Seijuro leaned back as well, quiet for a moment as he looked at Makoto’s profile in the moonlight. “Do you want to start swimming again?”

The question surprised Makoto, and he turned sharply around and stared at Seijuro with wide eyes. His scar ached at the motion, and he winced. “I don’t... know,” he said slowly. He locked his fingers together and fidgeted with them in his lap. It wasn’t the truth, but it wasn’t really a lie either. He had days where he wanted to swim again so badly it nearly killed him inside, but other days he didn’t think about it at all. He reached up and self-consciously rubbed at his scar, a new habit he was forming now that the bandage was off. Seijuro just watched him quietly.

“My class was good,” he finally said, smiling. “Thank you for asking.”

Makoto nodded, a slow, awkward smile spreading. He glanced over at Seijuro, but the man was already reaching over to start the car.

“Wanna get something to go for dinner?” he asked with another smile. Makoto looked out, suddenly craving something very specific.

“Is there a good Chinese place around?” He glanced at Seijuro with a blush. “I’m really craving some fried rice.”

Seijuro paused and then tossed his head back as he burst into laughter. “That sounds great,” he said as he tapped at Makoto’s phone screen. “Look it up,” he said with a grin.

Makoto lifted his phone and did a quick search, starting the directions up as Seijuro drove. He turned on some music, and they enjoyed the quiet. When Makoto got back home, he’d have to text everyone and tell them he was alive. Some fried rice and dumplings would totally help with that.

x

He didn’t even have time to type a second message; Haru’s response was quick as lightning, and Nagisa’s wasn’t far after.

 _Where have you been?_ The text was calm, but Makoto was sure Haru was steaming out of his ears.

 _I’ve been worried._ That one broke Makoto’s heart. He sent an immediate apology response, but Haru just ignored it and waited for Makoto to answer his question.

Instead of typing it all out, he pressed the call button. His phone buzzed against his ear as Nagisa sent him text after text. The line rang once before Haru picked up.

“I’m sorry,” were the first words out of Makoto’s mouth. He expected anger and fuming, but Haru just gave a long sigh.

“Are you okay?”

“I am now,” he said quietly. “I’m staying with Seijuro.”

Haru let that sink in. There was shuffling in the background and finally he asked, “What happened?”

Makoto felt tears rise up the instant he heard Haru’s soft tone. He was angry, probably, but he wasn’t projecting it at Makoto. He understood that something must have occurred; he’d probably known for a while, too, what was going on. Makoto pulled at his hair in shame and regret, biting his lip as tears fell in streams down his face. Behind him, Seijuro walked in from putting food away in the kitchen. The moment he saw Makoto’s face, he took the phone from him and pressed it to his own ear.

“Haru?” he asked as he glanced at Makoto and then stepped back into the kitchen.

“Makoto’s fine. I’ll tell you what happened-“ His voice faded as he stepped further away, and Makoto let out a sharp exhale, his sobs having been forced to be quiet. He hadn’t thought he’d be unable to say the words, but he’d choked up the moment Haru had asked. He still couldn’t say that he’d been abused, that he’d been beaten and shamed and had to drag himself to the hospital in fear of his own life. He couldn’t say that some days he was still petrified of voices outside the apartment or cars driving by at night. He couldn’t say he relived it on sleepless nights or in dreams. He couldn’t tell his best friend in the world that he’d let someone debase him like that. He still had some pride left.

When Seijuro came back, he quietly handed the phone back to Makoto. He pushed it up to his ear, breathed out a breathless, “Haru?” He winced as he waited, but Haru’s voice was quiet when he spoke, full of too many raw emotions.

“Makoto. You never said a word. I didn’t know it was that bad-“

“I couldn’t,” Makoto gasped out, shaking. Seijuro stood a few feet away, watching quietly. “Okay...” Haru said slowly. “Are you safe now?”

Makoto looked around, had to think about it. He felt safe when Seijuro was here, but other times he was scared out of his skin. “I don’t know,” he whispered as he stared at the ground with wide eyes. The reality that Kai was still out there, what he would do if he ever saw Makoto terrified him. His hands shook so bad that Seijuro had to sit down and take his free one between his own.

“If you need someone to come be with you when Seijuro’s at work, call me. Call Rin, or Nagisa. If you ever feel unsafe-“

There was something so raw in Haru’s voice. It made Makoto’s eyes tear up again. “Okay,” he said quietly.

“Are you staying inside?”

“Yes-“

Haru sighed. “Okay. I get it, but- okay...” He went quiet again.

“I’m eating,” whispered Makoto into the phone, glancing shyly up at Seijuro, who smiled sweetly at him.

“Good,” sighed Haru. “You were wasting away...” “Sorry.” Another knee jerk apology as Makoto winced.

“Don’t, Makoto. You’ve probably done that enough now for a whole lifetime. It’s okay, as long as you’re taking care of yourself now.”

Makoto let out a slow exhale, tension sliding off his back, his shoulders unlocking. Seijuro pulled him against his chest, and Makoto snuggled down there.

“Let me talk to Rin?” he asked quietly. He didn’t even have to ask if they were together.

Haru quietly passed the phone along, and Rin’s sigh came through the speaker. “I heard.” A pause, and then, “ _God damnit, Makoto_.”

“I’m sorry, Rin.”

“Ugh, stop...” Makoto could almost see him waving his hand in front of his face, pulling a face like he’d smelled a skunk.

“I’ll beat him up the next time I see his face, Makoto, I swear to god-“

“Mother fucker,” swore Haru in the background, and Makoto almost laughed, he was so shocked by the words coming from Haru’s lips. Rin gave a short chuckle, his voice muffled as he covered the phone to say something to Haru. Why did it sound like he’d murmured proudly, “That’s my boy.”

When he came back on, he was all business, though. “Listen, Sousuke’s been asking about you non-stop and I swear I’m about to rip him a new one, but don’t you dare let that man trick you-“

“Sou- suke... has?” Makoto whispered roughly, and Seijuro went still under him. The hand in Makoto’s hair stopped moving. He glanced up at the redhead, seeing the look in his eyes of pure guilt. He sat up, a hand against Seijuro’s chest, frowning slowly. “What happened?” he asked the other quietly.

Seijuro sighed and shook his head. “He’s been showing up at the aquatic center every day asking about you.”

“Really?” whispered Makoto, hating the way his voice rose hopefully. He coughed and shook his head, trying to act like he wasn’t so happy and confused to hear that.

In his ear, Rin was rambling on about not trusting the sneaky bastard, how selfish he was, didn't he remember how he’d broken Makoto’s heart? And don’t get him started on his bitch of a fiancée.

Makoto gripped a little tighter at Seijuro’s shirt, staring at him with wide eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered, though he was sure he knew. Because Seijuro knew he’d feel like this, fruitlessly hoping for something that would never happen, hurting himself again. God, he would never ever get over that man, would he...? In the back of his mind would always be the what if’s and the could-have-been’s. In the back of his mind would always be that short time of happiness he’d had with the man.

“You know why,” murmured Seijuro. And then, “Sorry.”

But Makoto shook his head, tried for a laugh. “No. I mean, you were right.” He rubbed at his drippy, itchy nose with the edge of his sleeve, his hand moving away from his ear and Rin’s voice going a little quieter. He was still rambling.

A hand reached out and petted Makoto’s head, pulling him back in against Seijuro’s chest. “Don’t say it like that. I didn’t want to be right about this.”

Makoto let out a shaky sigh. He wished Seijuro hadn’t been right either. “I always pick real winners,” he tried for a joke, but it was too real, and it fell flat. Rin had gone quiet now too.

“You’re worth more,” Rin and Seijuro said together.

“Than those douche bags,” finished Rin alone.

“Than that,” whispered Seijuro. Makoto blinked at the part of Seijuro’s chest he could see.

“Maybe I should just fall in love with you,” he joked quietly to Seijuro.

The man hugged him tighter, but he laughed a little self-deprecating thing and said, “Don’t do that to yourself either.”

Rin groaned. “Yeah, please.” Haru called his name scoldingly in the background. Makoto gave a wry little smile.

“I’ll be safe,” he told Rin as he lifted his tear-streaked phone again. “I’m getting better. I’ll be right as rain again soon.”

“Come swim with us then,” was all Rin said in response, his voice serious. The line filled with silence.

Makoto couldn’t say he wouldn’t be able to keep up, so he gave a weak, “Maybe.” Rin just sighed wearily, but he wished the other sweet dreams and hung up.

“I won’t fall in love with you,” Makoto whispered to Seijuro as his own self-deprecating joke. “You’d be good for me. Too good.”

Seijuro gave a short chuckle, acknowledging Makoto’s self-slam. He gave the other a tight squeeze. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about Sousuke.”

Makoto shook his head, but still he asked, “Did he say anything? Does he... know?” 

“No,” Seijuro laughed bitterly. “God, he’s so fucking clueless.”

Makoto looked up at the redhead in confusion, but Seijuro was leaning back with his eyes closed. “No,” he murmured. “He doesn’t know anything at all.”


	15. Still Love

Sousuke raised his hands as Seijuro groaned and rolled his eyes. This was getting annoying. “I’m just here to swim.”

“Makoto’s not here, Sousuke,” Seijuro said, his feathers ruffling. Didn’t this man have other things to do? The Olympics were starting soon, and even Haru and Rin barely left the big pool that was used for their training now.

Sousuke’s face revealed nothing as he stared at Seijuro for a long moment. Finally, he said, “I can go somewhere else if you’d prefer,” knowing full well that Seijuro would never let a good customer walk away. He sighed and waved the other in as he turned around. He walked into the front reception area and into the small office at the side. There, he sat down in the swivel chair in front of his desk and sighed wearily. God, he loved Makoto, but everyone else who knew him was grating on his nerves. Even as he sat there, he could sense another storm on the horizon. He slowly got up from the chair and moved back into the front hall of the center.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Seijuro whispered under his breath, staring at what had to be the most laughable sight in the world. Gold eyes met icy blue, and there was the barest flash of anger before Kai asked quietly, almost demurely, “Is Makoto here?”

Seijuro rolled his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. He crossed his arms and spread his legs. The sight before him almost made him want to laugh if it wasn’t for the fact that the man before him made his blood boil with rage. In the middle of the hall stood Kai with the biggest bouquet of flowers and a brown teddy bear in his other arm, wearing an expression he had to have practiced in the mirror before he came. God, he almost looked pitiable.

“Go fuck yourself,” Seijuro hissed, fist clenching against his chest. “I told you I never wanted to see your face again.”

Kai stepped forward, flowers still raised like a shield. “Please, listen to me. I made a terrible mistake. I just need to apologize to Makoto. He’s everything to me. Please...”

Seijuro felt his gut roll with the most disgusting feeling as Kai’s words slid like slugs over his skin, leaving a gross residue behind. He had to clench his teeth to keep his bitter words in.

How he did it, Seijuro wasn’t sure, but Kai forced two, thick, round tears out of each eye, and Seijuro watched with feigned interest as they rolled down the man’s face. He followed them with his eyes before they dropped to the man’s chest, and then his eyes flicked back up to Kai’s.

“Yeah, no offense, but I don’t fucking believe you or give a shit about your feelings.” He let his hands drop, but goddamn, he was angry. With everything in him, he held back as he hissed darkly, “Don’t lie to my face when Makoto has scars all over his body from your ‘mistake’.”

Kai looked taken aback; he physically took a step back, and that opened up a window for Seijuro to see past him. It was like looking in the mirror, he thought. Seijuro wondered if the man across the hall was even aware of how terrifying he looked. It didn’t even matter how long he’d been standing there; he’d definitely heard Seijuro’s last words. The shock of them showed in the way his left hand trembled and his eyes were trained on Seijuro’s face.

Kai’s eyes flicked back to where Seijuro was staring, and for a moment his whole act dropped as he whispered, “Shit.”

Sousuke’s eyes looked almost black; at the sound Kai made, his eyes shifted slowly to the other man, and his body language shifted into something terrifying. Looking like he was about to pop, Sousuke stood about fifteen feet away, fists clenched, lips white, eyes angry and now focused completely on Kai.

Kai turned back to Seijuro, like anyone could save him from the wrath that was Sousuke. It surprised Seijuro for a moment, seeing Sousuke. It didn’t seem Sousuke had known much of what was going on, but he’d had inkling enough for Seijuro’s words to ring true enough to make him this angry in a flash. Did he know how menacing he looked? What was going on in his head? Seijuro just turned back to Kai with no amount of sympathy in his gaze.

“If I could just see him and say I’m sorry-“ He was whispering now in an effort to keep Sousuke from overhearing, but sound travelled far better in these halls than anywhere else. Seijuro stood witness as Sousuke reached his breaking point.

“How dare you-“ he bellowed, his voice echoing so strongly throughout the hall that even Seijuro felt a chill down his spine. It was like watching someone put the final pieces to a puzzle together, finally starting to see the whole picture; Sousuke was starting to put two and two together, whatever that was worth for a man like him.

Kai turned to Sousuke and jerkily raised his hands in surrender, but Seijuro noted the way his feet shifted into an attack stance. “Listen, about the thing at the ice rink-“

Sousuke was on Kai in a second flat, and Seijuro nearly forgot who the Olympic wrestler and who the swimmer was. A quick foot hooked around the back of Kai’s ankle and suddenly the man was on the floor, Sousuke looking ready to pounce down and let him have it, but Seijuro surged forward and pressed his hand flat to Sousuke’s firm chest. Fuck, he was ripped; he could definitely tear Kai apart if he really wanted to, pro-wrestling status be damned. Sousuke’s eyes flicked up to Seijuro and the redhead didn’t think he’d ever been as mad as Sousuke looked.

“I get it,” he whispered fiercely, “but please don’t do this.”

Sousuke looked back down at Kai, his hands still clenched into tight fists. His jaw worked over too much raw emotion, and Seijuro was shocked. “Tell me what he did-“ he whispered fiercely, trying so hard to contain himself in that moment. His aqua eyes flicked to Seijuro, and suddenly he was begging. “Tell me what this bastard did to Makoto.”

Kai, who seemed to still be as cocky as ever even in the current circumstance, let out a short laugh and asked, “What, he doesn’t even know? Then why are you so mad at me?”

Seijuro could feel in the air the way Kai’s words were absolutely the wrong thing to say. It took everything in Seijuro to grab onto Sousuke before he lunged forward, and hold him back.

“Makoto wouldn’t want you to,” Seijuro whispered desperately in a last ditch attempt, because god, Sousuke was really ready to throw down and beat the shit out of Kai. But slowly, slowly he simmered down. He backed off, and Kai scrambled to his feet in a flash, backing away. Maybe he’d finally learned his lesson. Sousuke took his own steps back, his hand slowly uncurling.

“Don’t ever come back here,” Seijuro warned darkly as he turned again to face Kai. “I really mean it. I can’t even explain to you how scummy you are; I don’t ever want to see your face again, or hear you say his name. Next time, I won’t stop him from punching the shit out of you.”

Kai backed away again, eyes shifting back and forth. He stopped about ten feet away, glancing between the two as if he was trying to figure out if he could still win this fight.

His voice dripped with so much sugary emotion as he said, “Can you just tell him that I love him and that I’m so-“

Kai never finished his words or had a chance to react. Sousuke moved the way only a swimmer could, silent and deadly, and so quick for being so tall and big. All Seijuro heard was the bone-crunching smack as a fist connected with a skull. Kai let out a grunt and the next thing Seijuro knew, the man was sprawled on the floor.

Sousuke shook out his fist, grasping his wrist with his other hand. He was livid. His lips were shaking with how angry he was, speechless.

“Holy...” Seijuro uttered under his breath in shock. Kai’s hands scrambled to his face as he covered a bloody nose. Sousuke was shaking.

“Seiju-“ Kai tried again for pity.

“Leave! And don’t say another word.” This time Seijuro wasn’t being nice about it. Kai was pushing his last buttons. He stepped up next to Sousuke and kicked the man towards the door as hard as he could. Kai didn’t slide very far, too big for that, but it got him on his feet and leaving in silence.

“Can you believe...” Seijuro muttered under his breath as he turned to Sousuke, but the man wasn’t listening at all. His eyes were wide, like he’d just now snapped out of a trance he’d been in, shocked by his own actions. He turned slowly to Seijuro, shaking his punching hand in disbelief.

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t- I was so _angry_ every time he opened his mouth.”

Seijuro shifted on his feet and stared at the other man. He took back everything; Sousuke was as dumb as he’d assumed.

Still, he grabbed his shoulder and said, “Don’t apologize. At least, not to me.”

In the man’s eyes were so many questions, but he bit them back, knowing well enough that Seijuro wouldn’t answer them.

“He’s safe now,” the redhead offered shortly, his eyes steady on the man before him. Sousuke looked at him for a long while, lips still working over raw emotion and words unsaid.

“I don’t know what came over me...” He finally whispered, but Seijuro knew very well what it was, and he was starting to suspect that Sousuke was slowly figuring it out himself. Sousuke’s eyes dropped to the floor, his voice going sad. He sounded broken as he whispered, almost to himself, “Will I never see him again?”

Seijuro blinked at the top of Sousuke’s head. “You go home too,” he said finally, shaken by Sousuke’s words. He didn’t know what to say to them.

Slowly, Sousuke went to pack up his things, as Seijuro prepared to close the center for the night. They walked out the front door together, and Seijuro watched as Sousuke trudged off into the darkness by himself. He locked the door slowly before turning to make his own way home. A chill ran down his spine and he glanced around, stopping to look.

Someone was watching him. Quiet footsteps seemed to follow him home. Seijuro took the long way around. He told himself he was imagining it. Still, he locked his front door the moment he stepped through it.

“Makoto?” he called into the house. After a few moments, a sweet face popped out around the corner to the kitchen. Seijuro had never been so glad to see the brunet. He rushed forward and enveloped Makoto into a bear hug.

How was he supposed to keep Makoto safe? How was Makoto supposed to heal when no one would leave him alone for a moment to breathe and think? Seijuro wanted to monopolize this precious man’s whole life. He fisted his hands into the sweatshirt Makoto wore.

“How was your day?” he asked in an effort to hide his tumultuous emotions. He pulled back and smiled at Makoto, pet his face and over his scar.

It sickened him that Kai could think flowers and an apology would ever be enough. If Sousuke hadn’t been there, Seijuro might have killed him. He pressed his lips tighter together and tried to smile at Makoto as best as he could. He listened as Makoto told him about his day.

He would do everything and anything to protect this precious smile and sweet man. He just wasn’t sure if he would succeed.

x

It was still fairly early, but then again, Makoto had gotten into a bad habit of not rising before noon these days. It was easy to do when he was home alone most days, Seijuro apologetically having an aquatic center and classes to run. But Makoto didn’t mind so much; it was easier for him to deal with his emotions when he didn’t have to worry about hiding them from someone else. Sometimes smiling at Seijuro was hard, knowing there were so many things Makoto went through in his head that he would never be able to tell Seijuro about. The doubt and the regret, the self-loathing and depression, the feeling that maybe he would be alone forever... 

This morning, the thoughts had started early, and it had woken him from a fitful sleep. It was always sad waking up to an empty apartment, but Makoto trudged out in his pajamas, tears streaming freely down his face. Peanut Butter circled around his ankles and purred anxiously, but Makoto didn’t even have the strength to pick the cat up. He wandered around the apartment aimlessly, restless, slipping back into old habits of not eating and not talking to anyone. His depression gave him tunnel vision.

He barely heard the knocking at the door. It wasn’t until the doorbell rang insistently that Makoto shocked himself out of the downward spiral of his thoughts. He turned and just stared at the front door for a long time. This had never happened. What was he supposed to do?

When the doorbell rang again, Makoto slowly made his way to the front entry, feet quiet as he moved in case he needed to pretend no one was home. He slowly peeked through the peephole on the door, holding his breath.

Oh. Just a package. Someone stood in front of his door in a thick jacket, a baseball cap with a popular shipping company logo on the front. The person shuffled on their feet, a big package in their hands. It was probably something Seijuro had ordered and had forgotten to mention. Maybe it needed to be signed for. When the doorbell rang again, it startled Makoto and he yelped out, “Ah, h-hold on... just a second-!”

He fumbled with the locks, having never touched them himself. Seijuro always locked the door behind him when he left or came home. Makoto was so embarrassed, which made him take twice as long to open a single door lock. When he pulled the door open, he had his head lowered in apology.

“So sorr-“

His breath punched out of his lungs as a solid cardboard box was pushed hard against his chest. He took a step back, stepping on a shoe, stumbling back until he sat hard on his ass on the tile floor of the front entryway. “Sorry,” he apologized again with a laugh, but when he looked up, everything froze. The person was smaller than he’d expected, but that didn’t matter much when he was on his butt on the floor and they stood towering over him, inside the apartment. The package was tossed inside and the cap pulled back, and Makoto let out an unrestrained yelp of horror as the blood drained from his face. There was a cold glint of something very sharp in one hand, and Makoto’s blood went cold when the intruder laughed coldly and said, “It looks like he’s already fucked up your face a bit for me.”

Makoto stared with dry, wide eyes up at Ayame, who looked downright evil as she grinned wide and proud down at Makoto.

“God, you’re stupid,” she chuckled. She waved around the apartment. She looked around and laughed again. And then she swooped down in a single heart beat, teeth barred and eyes glowing as she pressed the cold metal of her knife to Makoto’s cheek. He whimpered, a sob sticking to his throat as raw memories rose up in a rush, fear choking him from too-recent encounters with sharp blades. Behind him, he could hear the scramble of tiny nails on hardwood. He prayed that Peanut Butter would just stay back as he heard a hiss from a few feet behind him. Ayame didn’t even look up, her face filled with so much anger and coldness that Makoto wondered if she’d swept in an ice storm with her.

“How the fuck,” she hissed, “do I make it so you never get in my way again?

“Making you disappear isn’t enough,” she muttered to herself, crazy. “That’s evident enough now. If I make you so ugly that he can’t stand the sight of you, will that be enough?” Her knife scraped dangerously over Makoto’s cheek, creeping closer to his eye ball. He slowly, carefully tried to pull away, but she just followed him. A clawed hand reached up as she grunted in anger, and a wad of his hair was pulled so tight that he let out an anguished sound. She laughed. “Ah, that feels good,” she hummed. “Scream for me some more~”

“I don’t know what it is you want from me, but whatever I can do-“

She reeled back and waved her knife, livid. “No, there’s nothing you can fucking do! Just your existence is the problem! You’re distracting him!” She was nearly screeching now as she rambled on, crazy. “Do you know how hard I’ve worked?! When I first met him, he didn’t think he could ever swim competitively again, but I pushed him! I made him great! He’s nothing like what he was in high school, I’m sure of it! It’s all thanks to me!”

Makoto stared up with wide eyes, his mind racing with ways to get out, get her out.

“And then you just _show up_ and everything I worked so hard on is just thrown out the window! Suddenly my honey’s times are getting worse! And there you fucking are, acting like you don’t even know what you’re doing, like you don’t know all too well how you’re playing with him!!” Now she was really screeching. Makoto was trying to find something, anything to grab to throw at her, to distract her. The way she was waving that knife made his heart seize in his chest.

“He doesn’t even know what I’ve done for him!! I worked my ass off!! And all you have to do is show your stupid little face?! _I want to fucking murder you!!_ ”

Makoto jerked back at her words, but that was the wrong move. She lunged forward and grabbed at his shirt, pinning him down. She sat hard on his stomach, her thighs squeezing against his sides, and though she was small, she easily held him down. There was a short hiss behind them, and Makoto glanced up to see a ball of orange fur, shaking just a few feet away. Peanut Butter was on all fours, legs spread, teeth showing, her fur raised. He wished he could calm her down, but the knife now at his neck made it impossible to move or even speak out of fear.

Her voice was a little calmer when she spoke next, laced with a barely-there sanity. She laughed again. “I don’t even get it. It’s not like there’s any future for fags like you. No, if he wants a future, if he wants to be successful, he has to stay with _me_!” Under her breath, she muttered, “Why doesn’t he get that?!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“ whispered Makoto slowly, spreading his hands on the floor to show that he wouldn’t do anything. She gripped her claws into his neck and sat up with a laugh, her eyes pitying him. Her knife swished through the air.

“Stop~ fucking~ apologizing... Ugh, it sounds so pitiful!” She pressed the tip of the knife back to his cheek. “Don’t you have any sort of dignity? All these men see in you is someone weak and easy to control.”

 _Ah_ , thought Makoto in a moment of clarity. _Is that what it was?_

“Yeah, I can see you agree with me. You know you’re fucking useless, don’t you? God. So why don’t you just fucking disappear and stop...” She pressed the knife deeper against his cheek. “stealing... what isn’t... yours.”

Blood pooled against the tip of her knife, just a little bit, but it brought Makoto harshly to the reality of the moment. His eyes went wide and he stared up at Ayame. Her eyes were crazy.

“Sousuke is mine, and I won’t ever fucking let him go. Because of me, he’s going to be world famous. He’s going to be the best. I won’t accept any less...” Her eyes flashed back down to Makoto, and she hissed out, “You’re making him less.

“So why don’t you just... _disappear?_ ”

Her knife pressed harshly along his cheek, sliding painfully, and her grin grew more maniacal as she watched a thin line of blood follow her blade. Makoto wanted to cry; it hurt like a paper cut. Suddenly the cold metal was off his face and all he saw was the flash of metal as she raised the knife with two hands over her head, and he thought, _So this is it._

 _I wanted to see Sousuke one last time. Maybe I could have told him_

_that I still..._

_love_

Makoto closed his wet eyes and waited; it felt like eternity but it was only a split second. From behind his head came the angriest yowl, and a rush of air flew over him. His eyes snapped open and he watched as Peanut attacked, teeth sinking into Ayame’s exposed wrist. She let go of the knife with one hand as she howled in pain, shaking the cat off her with a flick of her arm. The ball of orange fur smacked sickeningly against the wall beside Makoto, and he twisted in a desperate effort to save his cat, but Ayame caught him by the hair, scrambling for her knife and raising it again. She yelled, a cannibalistic, awful thing. This time, the cold blade came down against his bicep, slicing through his sweater and cutting deep into the skin of his arm. It hurt like hell, but he could still move. Blood quickly soaked his sleeve as he tried to scramble away, but Peanut was faster than either of them had expected. While Ayame was distracted by Makoto, Peanut lunged again for her face. She had barely enough time to toss the knife and cover her face. Red marks appeared across the backs of her hands as Peanut scratched her _hard_. 

The cat landed on all fours and looked ready to go again. Ayame reached for her knife again with an angry hiss, but once more, Peanut Butter was faster. Makoto cried for his cat to stop, she’d get hurt, but Peanut grabbed up the handle of the knife with no fear and darted away with it, hiding it. Ayame howled in a nearly inhuman tone, and she turned her attention back to Makoto in a snap. Her own claws came out and she scratched at Makoto like Peanut had scratched at her. Her nails tore his skin open on his forearms as he raised his arms to protect his face, but she grabbed his wrists and pulled them apart, pushed them to the floor. His knuckles hit hard against the hardwood and his barely-healed arm screamed in pain. He was immobilized for a moment as pain took his breath away; it was all she needed. She balled up her fist and struck Makoto square in the gut. Whatever he hadn’t digested yet from dinner last night shot up his throat, bile and food spewing out of his mouth as he turned his face away. She hit him again, and he gagged, eyes going wide.

“ _Just disappear!_ ” she screeched again. “Just fucking- _disappear!_ ”

She wasn’t much stronger than him, but she knew exactly where to hit him to knock the breath out of his lungs and keep him unable to move. The only thing that stopped her was Peanut, leaping through the air again and locking her jaw back around Ayame’s wrist. She yowled loud once more, but this time she stood as she shook the cat off her.

“ _Fuck you!_ ” she screamed. “I don’t ever want to see your face again! I swear it’ll be worse for you next time, so back the fuck off and disappear from his sight!”

With that, she turned on her heel and raced out the door, Peanut hot on her heels. The cat howled like a dog on the hunt. Makoto heard her booming, stumbling steps down the stairwell as she scrambled to get away, and he had to scrape himself off the floor and scrambled after her to make sure Peanut didn’t hurt herself. He blindly ran down the hall and tripped down the stairs. He was so overwrought that he barely saw the stairs before him, moving blindly. He nearly tripped over a hissing ball of orange fur, and he could see Ayame fleeing down the road. He sank down and scooped up his cat, curling around the thing.

“You stupid idiot,” he sobbed. He squeezed Peanut Butter to his chest. His own pain was diminished for the fear he’d held for his precious cat getting hurt. “Why did you do that?! You could have been hurt!”

Peanut let out a little _mreow_ against Makoto’s chest, and he sank down to his butt in relief.

“I’m so sorry, Peanut. So sorry... I’m such a bad person... I’m sorry. I just keep hurting the ones I love the most...”

He scrambled to his feet, petrified now to be outside alone, and he ran back up to the apartment, slamming the door shut with a quiet apology, twisting the deadbolt in place. He sank to his knees and let out a back-breaking sob. He just wanted to live; why did everything he did have to be the wrong thing? 

Couldn’t he just... exist?

He just wanted to love and be loved. Was it too much to ask of anyone? He pulled Peanut Butter against his chest and sobbed against the front door.

That was how Seijuro found him several hours later, and another wave of guilt washed over Makoto as the man fretted over him, cried with him. He couldn’t tell Seijuro what had happened; still, still, he had to heed the woman’s words.

Sousuke could never know. No, no one could know that his fiancée was this insane. 

x

Seijuro had been dead silent since he’d come home the night before. He’d cared for Makoto’s wounds and then tucked him into bed with a mug of hot cocoa and his hand to hold. He hadn’t left Makoto’s side all night, sleeping by laying over the edge of the bed. After he’d fallen asleep, Makoto had tried to pull him up into the bed with him, at least, but Seijuro was too heavy.

In the morning, the redhead quietly made him breakfast and served it to him in bed. Then he’d sat down and apologized.

“I’m so sorry, Makoto.”

“It’s my own fault,” Makoto said with a deep frown. He hated that the other was blaming himself so much.

Seijuro gripped at his hair and rubbed at his head. “I just don’t know what’s right to do. I don’t want to keep you locked up, but I want to keep you safe-“

Makoto blinked down at Seijuro in surprise. He slowly reached out and took the man’s free hand in his own.

“It’s okay. Don’t put that burden on yourself.”

Seijuro looked up with sad eyes, squeezing Makoto’s hand tight. “Will you come with me tonight? I want to swim together again.”

Makoto looked down at his arm and leg; he was basically completely healed now, even with his tumbles last night, and he was sure working out in the water couldn’t hurt at all. He was starting to gain weight again, but he’d never regain his muscle by sitting at home all day. Besides, he missed the water.

“Yeah,” he whispered with a smile. “That sounds good.”

“You have to wear a ball cap,” Seijuro said, dead serious. “And a hood.”

“You’ll be with me,” Makoto said with a smile, but Seijuro shook his head, his frown not faltering. Finally Makoto relented.

Seijuro rubbed a thumb over his hand as Makoto slowly ate what was on his plate. He’d gotten a lot better with it; it helped when Seijuro seemed so happy seeing his empty plates. Makoto smiled down at his lap as he chewed down the last few bites of his toast. He didn’t consider himself to be so unlucky when he had friends like Seijuro by his side.

x

The area around the aquatic center was quiet. The only thing off was the lone figure that stood under the street lamp right outside. Makoto’s heart kicked up when he saw Haru lift his head and smile softly. He faltered for a moment, but then he rushed forward and grasped Haru’s hands.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered fiercely. Haru looked up into his eyes and smiled.

“You look better,” Haru said softly back, and Makoto nodded. Seijuro waved the two inside after he’d gotten the door unlocked. They walked in together, moving as a quiet group to the locker room. Makoto unpacked his locker there and hugged the swim shirt and jammers to his chest. He hadn’t touched them in so long that it was almost painful. Haru slipped off his clothes, his own swim jammers already on underneath. Makoto cracked a grin, laughing. It was so typical, familiar. He turned away and slowly began undressing himself. Behind him, Haru was deathly quiet. By the time Makoto was done changing, Haru was standing beside him, staring quietly at Makoto’s side profile.

“Are you doing okay?”

Makoto turned to look at his best friend, Haru’s eyes shifting over Makoto’s face slowly.

“I’m getting better,” Makoto replied quietly. “Seijuro’s been an angel. I couldn’t have done it without him.”

Haru nodded and gave a small smile. Then he reached up and caressed gently over Makoto’s newest wounds. “Are you going to tell anyone who did this to you?”

Makoto turned away and frowned. Haru was not one for being nosy, but this was personal to him, and Makoto could tell he was ready to get some revenge.

“It’s not worth it,” Makoto whispered to the tile floor, Haru watching him, knowing him better than anyone else.

“It was Ayame, wasn’t it?”

It wasn’t really a question. Makoto pursed his lips and stared more fiercely at the ground. Sometimes he hated that Haru could read him so well. He’d given himself away somehow, or maybe Haru was just too smart to trick.

There was no use denying it.

“Haru,” Makoto whispered fiercely as he clenched his fist. What would Haru do with that info?

“He has to know.” Haru’s face was stiff as he said the words; he wouldn’t be swayed from his opinion.

“You can’t, Haru!” Makoto’s head jerked up and he grabbed Haru’s hand. “Please,” he begged in a warbling voice.

“I’ll think about it,” Haru said stiffly. Unlike Seijuro, Haru would do whatever he thought best, disregarding who didn’t agree with his decision. Makoto stepped closer and begged again.

“It won’t do anyone any good! Just let them be happy and I’ll stay away.”

Haru was quiet, giving only a nod, though that didn’t mean a thing. Makoto didn’t know what else to say to convince the man, so he just walked away with thoughts running amok in his brain. He didn’t want to break the two apart; if Sousuke was happy, he couldn’t...

As long as Sousuke was happy, Makoto would do what was needed of him to keep it that way. Just as long as Sousuke could smile...

Haru made his way slowly out behind Makoto, stepping up silently beside Seijuro. The other didn’t turn to look; he just knew Haru was there. “Sousuke’s been coming by nearly every day.”

“I’ve been wondering where he’d go while we were doing our free swims.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“He loves Makoto. Like, seriously...” Seijuro’s voice barely broke the calm of the center.

Haru watched Makoto stretch slowly, dip his feet in the pool and enjoy the warm water. “Think Sousuke’s figured it out yet?”

Seijuro turned and looked at Haru’s side profile. “He has absolutely no idea that he’s head over heels for our Makoto.”

Haru gave a knowing little curve up of his lips, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He tucked his ace back up his sleeve and kept it quiet.

“It was that bitch, Ayame, wasn’t it?”

Haru turned to look up at Seijuro, before turning forward again and giving a single nod. Seijuro’s eyes shifted to Makoto again as well, and they watched as he slowly slipped into the water and began to carefully swim his way out a little and then back to the edge.

“Will you tell Sousuke?”

Haru pulled on his cap silently with no answer, and stalked off. Seijuro watched him go, watched him dive in and swim to the brunet. He watched Haru calmly interact with his best friend, who was all smiles and giggles. Seijuro wondered if this is what they’d been like in the past. He felt like he was watching something private.

Still, as he watched he knew one thing for certain. “He’s going to tell Sousuke, isn’t he?”


	16. Precious

Makoto was fiddling with the blanket that lay over his lap as he sat curled up on a kitchen chair while Seijuro made them a small lunch. His phone sat on the table in front of him, and all he could think about was Haru’s text from this morning.

It seemed everyone was missing him. Nagisa and Rei kept bothering Haru about him. Rin was chomping at the bit to see Makoto.

He hadn’t responded to the text yet. Seeing Haru was one thing; because of their personalities and how long they’d known each other, it was an easier step to take. But Rin was more vocal than Haru, worse at hiding his feelings, and Nagisa and Rei, well, Makoto wasn’t sure how they’d react, and that scared him more than knowing.

Still, being cooped up was beginning to take its toll; there was too much time to think and it reminded him of bad memories. It had been fine when he was still healing, as it would have been more of a pain to move around, but now Makoto could walk and do things by himself again, and he was getting antsy. More than anything, he wanted to get himself back on his feet and start working again, but he didn’t know how to broach that topic with Seijuro yet.

If he was honest, he missed the club. He wanted most of all to go back to work there, but the potential that Kai would show up was too great, and so he knew he couldn’t. He didn’t have a college degree, he didn’t have any work experience, and most other jobs wouldn’t accept his work at the club, due to the nature of the business.

And so Makoto was fretting and consumed by a lot of swirling thoughts. There was fear and desire, trepidation and determination, and they all mixed together and made it hard to think clearly. He looked up at Seijuro and wondered if talking it out might help.

More than anything, Seijuro had been so wonderful in helping Makoto relearn to love himself, to accept what had happened but move on from it. It was hard most days, when he saw the scars on his body, or when he thought about certain things Kai had said to him. Some days he’d go down a bad rabbit hole of depressing thoughts, and he’d think about his parents and about Sousuke, and Kai. Those days, he’d just curl up in bed and try to sleep it off, and Seijuro would come home to find the pillow under his head soaked and Makoto in a terrible mental state, and he’d slowly have to remind Makoto of the good things about him. There were nights where Makoto and Seijuro sat in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom together and Seijuro would point out all the ways that Makoto was beautiful, speaking to him calmly about his strengths and the things that made him so wonderful.

For all of these things, Makoto could never repay Seijuro, but he also couldn’t stay here forever without giving anything back. And so, again, it came down to getting a job. First though, he wanted to see his friends, whatever that would bring. If he had Seijuro and Haru on his side, he would be okay.

“Sei,” Makoto whispered softly, glancing up as the redhead turned around and smiled at him. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“I-“ Makoto began slowly, fiddling still with the blanket. He looked down and swallowed, trying again. “I think I’d like to have some friends over. I miss... I miss them.”

His head jerked up as he added quickly, “Not that being here with you hasn’t been amazing, and if it’s too much trouble-!”

Seijuro was smiling though, looking thrilled. “What were you waiting for, silly? You could have invited them over any time.”

Makoto stared at Seijuro with wide eyes. He hadn’t even thought of that. How long had it been since he hadn’t needed to ask for permission, to fear a reprimand or a negative answer. Seijuro tilted his head a little and his smile softened. He stepped forward and placed a warm hand on Makoto’s head.

“You’re free to do whatever you want, Makoto. I never want to be the one to hold you back or lock you up. You’re your own person. You can decide for yourself what you want and go after it.”

Makoto nodded slowly, his brain processing the foreign information. He remembered vaguely having such freedoms before. How had he forgotten so quickly that it was a normal human thing to have a say over your own life? He let out a short, ironic laugh. Then he looked up at Seijuro and gave a crooked, embarrassed little smile.

“Is it all right if we have them over tonight?”

Seijuro turned a little and pushed Makoto’s phone closer to him with a knowing smile. Without another word, as if to say, “You don’t have to ask me,” he stepped back to the stove and continued on their lunch. Makoto felt empowered as he picked up his phone, and he had to drink in the feeling for a moment. He shut his eyes and stored the feeling in his memory banks.

With shaky hands, he texted his four friends. 

x

Haru was quiet as he stepped inside the small apartment. Seijuro held the door open, and Makoto stood a few feet back, watching with a nervousness that made his skin itch. Rin stalked in quietly behind, removing his shoes diligently as Haru padded up to his best friend.

“How are you?” he asked quietly, so sweet when he cared for someone. Makoto gave a smile and a small nod. Rin grunted behind Haru as he stood, and slowly the dark-haired male stepped aside, letting Rin see Makoto for the first time since the accident.

There was a sharp inhale of air, and Rin went quiet as his eyes took in all of Makoto. He was starting to fill out the clothes Seijuro was lending him, slowly getting back to a normal weight, and Rin took that all in. His eyes landed last on the scar, and he stepped forward and cupped a hand right around it, rubbing at it with his thumb as if he could sense Makoto’s pain from it that way. There was a flash of anger in his red eyes, a small scowl as his lips pulled back and revealed his teeth.

“Rin,” Haru called calmly, a gentle reminder. Rin slowly pulled his hand back into a fist, his lips pressing tightly together. There was a whole range of emotions in Rin’s eyes; sadness, anger, guilt. Rin was no doubt blaming himself now for a lot of things. He looked like he itched to fight someone. Haru gently took his fist in his own hand, another soft reminder.

“I’m not angry at you,” Rin said finally, his voice stiff like he was trying so hard to hold back words. Red eyes looked up at Makoto to ensure he understood. “You get it, right?”

Makoto nodded slowly.

Rin growled and hissed out, “Motherfucker, I want to punch his lights out for ever touching you like that.”

“Rin,” Haru said.

“It’s how I feel, Haru. I’m being very nice right now.” His other fist clenched and Makoto could tell it was true. Rin was really holding back.

Red eyes flicked back to Makoto and he slowly deflated himself. “Still, you look good, Makoto. You were wasting away before, but it looks like Seijuro’s taught you how to eat properly again.”

Makoto nodded, smiling now. He slowly reached forward, and Rin took a second to understand, but as soon as he did, he reached out and pulled Makoto into his arms, hugging him so tightly that Makoto felt breathless. Ah, this was it. He smiled wide into Rin’s shoulder as he hugged the other back. They used to hug each other like they meant to break the other’s back; it was the way they showed affection. More than words, this hug assured Makoto that everything would be okay.

“You idiooot-!” came a running cry as a small body tackled Rin and Makoto. Haru luckily put his hand on Makoto’s back to keep them from toppling over, and suddenly a blond head was trying to burrow its way between two bodies. Rin pulled away from Makoto, and Nagisa took up the space he’d occupied in a split second. “You just disappeared, you didn’t call or say anything, Rei and I were so damn worried! You idiot!”

Makoto, flustered, slowly hugged Nagisa to his chest, eyes wide as he looked over the man’s shoulder. Seijuro shut the door, and there in the entry way stood the last person of his friend group. Rei looked more emotional than any of them had, but he was deathly quiet as he pressed his lips together until they were white.

Nagisa reclaimed Makoto’s attention as he stepped back and looked the man over, hands on his arms. He looked this way and that, inspecting with his hands as well as his eyes. He traced the scar and squeezed Makoto’s sides. Finally, he looked up and smiled wide. “I’m not sure how you look even sexier now, but I think you’ve got some kind of bad boy aesthetic going on now. You should definitely roll with it.”

Nagisa giggled as Makoto’s mouth fell open and his cheeks turned pink, winking up at the brunet. Then he dove in and hugged Makoto again, feeling him up as he sighed and whispered, “God, I’ve missed this ass of yours. You feel so good~”

“Nagisa,” Rei said, and the whole room fell to silence. His voice was strained, and Nagisa slowly stepped back and turned back to his boyfriend. He quietly looked the other over as his hand slipped down into Makoto’s.

“Stop.” Nagisa’s voice carried heavy through the silence. Everyone’s eyes shifted to him. “You cannot blame yourself for this.”

Makoto looked back at Rei in surprise, and he was shocked to see Rei’s whole face dissolve in overwhelming emotion, as tears rimmed his eyes and his mouth slowly parted as if he wanted to say something.

“I’m so sorry... Makoto-“

“It’s not your fault!” Makoto rushed hurriedly. He stepped forward, Nagisa’s hand still in his own, and the blond squeezed it.

“Rei, more than myself, has been constantly thinking and worrying about you.” Nagisa’s voice was quiet now, his own guilt creeping in. The room around Makoto was growing heavy as slowly everyone faced their own regrets about the situation.

“There’s nothing...” Makoto began in a slow, wavering voice, glancing around. “This was all my fault. Please... please don’t feel sorry for me.” Tears slid down his face and an ugly sob escaped. “I don’t want to feel like I’m so pitiable.”

Rei was the one who caught him before he sank to the ground. He pulled him to his chest and stroked his hair and back.

“No,” he whispered. “More than anything, we think you are the bravest, strongest, most beautiful person in the world.”

Soft hums of agreement echoed around the room.

“If anyone is pitiable here, it’s us for having done nothing at all.”

“No,” Makoto sobbed. “No, you were all there for me. Without any of you, I-“

“Makoto,” Seijuro whispered quietly, and green, wet eyes looked up over Rei’s shoulder. “We don’t want you to be sad anymore,” he smiled softly. He reached out and caressed Makoto’s face.

“Now, more than anything, is your time to be the happiest you can be,” Rei agreed as he pulled Makoto back and smiled at him.

“Yeah, show that butthole how much better off you are without him!” Nagisa cheered.

“Both buttholes,” Rin grumbled, and Makoto cracked a wobbly smile. When he turned to look at Haru, he was just smiling, his eyes a little wet as he looked at Makoto.

“Everyone here loves and adores you, and we all only want the best for you,” Seijuro said with no doubt at all in his voice.

Makoto turned back, nodded slowly as he glanced at Rei again.

“I’ll deal with my emotions in my own way,” he promised softly. “I’m just so glad you’re safe.” Fingers pushed red-rimmed glasses up as Rei sniffled loudly.

“And handsome as ever!” Nagisa giggled as he swept up behind Makoto to hug his back. 

“Yeah, really,” Rin huffed. “It’s hardly fair that you’re still the hottest one here.”

“Hey!” quipped Haru in soft offense, and Rin grinned crookedly at him.

“Do you disagree?” Rin asked with a laugh, and Haru sighed and shook his head as he turned back to Makoto.

“I told him he looks good,” Haru mumbled under his breath, and Makoto was shocked to see his cheeks flare red. Rin pulled the man to his side with a hearty laugh, and the tension around them snapped like a thin piece of rope. Makoto smiled as he looked at all of his friends. Seijuro mentioned food, and suddenly Nagisa was grabbing Makoto’s hand again and dragging him inside the apartment, laughing. Everyone followed behind, and soon the small apartment was filled with laughter and talking. Haru followed Seijuro into the kitchen, and the redhead glanced at him and asked quietly, “I’m curious how you figured out who attacked Makoto.”

Haru glanced at him with pretty blue eyes, then looked over his shoulder at where Makoto sat with Peanut Butter in his lap, Nagisa fawning over the cat.

“She had scratches on her hands. I was headed to the locker room and saw them when she came out of the bathroom at our last practice. She pulled on some gloves and walked away, acting weird.”

“So she’s trying to hide it from Sousuke.”

Haru glanced back at Seijuro, his face set with determination. Then his lips slowly turned up in a little grin.

“All the more reason to tell him,” was all he said as he turned back to the food, grabbing a plate and walking off quietly. Seijuro watched him go, blinking in surprise. It had been silly of him to worry about Makoto, he thought, about him ever being alone or needing only his protection.

With a soft chuckle, he grabbed the rest of the food and joined the others in the living room. “When are you coming back to the club?” Nagisa was asking hopefully, eyes wide.

“Oh,” whispered Makoto as he turned to the blond. His eyes caught sight of Seijuro and flicked up to meet his eyes for a moment. There was a pause, and Seijuro realized suddenly how selfish he’d been. He pressed his lips together as Makoto’s eyes flicked away and back to Nagisa. “I don’t know,” he said in a shy, unsure voice.

“I don’t think it would be safe, not with that bastard Kai around,” Seijuro gruffed, torn. Nagisa puffed out his chest and raised his small fists. “I’ll fight him if he ever comes around.” Rin and Rei rolled their eyes, and Seijuro barked out a small laugh.

“It’s not that simple, Nagisa,” Haru said slowly. The blond grunted in frustration.

“Besides, maybe Makoto doesn’t want to come back-“

Makoto looked up with wide eyes at Rei, and the other man’s words dropped off to silence. That look was enough to tell everyone in the room how badly Makoto missed his old job. He let out an awkward laugh as everyone went quiet.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and Haru was the first to move, reaching forward to smack Makoto gently on the backside of the head.

“Don’t apologize,” he said firmly.

“Sorry...” Makoto whispered again, and he received another tiny slap. Nagisa gave a small giggle.

The conversation shifted, to swimming, to daily life for the others, but Nagisa had gone a little quiet. His head was shifting around different ideas, and when he looked up again, Rei’s eyes were the first he saw. His boyfriend gave him a tiny, knowing smile.

Whatever they had to do to make Makoto happy... they were all in agreement.

The night wore on with laughter and jokes, subjects like Sousuke and Kai heavily avoided in favor of old stories and funny quips from the week. Makoto’s cheeks ached by the end of the night, and he felt stuffed to the brim with love and happiness and good food. He cried as everyone said goodnight, as they hugged him and promised him the happiness he deserved.

When they were all gone, Makoto turned quietly to Seijuro.

“Thank you,” he whispered. His words were cut off as he was pulled into a strong hug.

“I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to keep you from being happy.”

Makoto shook his head, shocked. “You have done more than I could have ever even asked for to help me. I can never thank you enough...”

Seijuro was quiet for a moment, until he whispered out softly, “I love you, Makoto.”

Makoto smiled and buried his head into the man’s neck. He’d come to understand Seijuro’s feelings very well over the past few months. “I love you too, Sei,” he husked. “Thank you a million times for everything you’ve done.”

A soft kiss pressed to his temple, as Seijuro hugged him tighter still. He was glad Makoto couldn’t see his face; he was having a hard time hiding his real feelings at the moment. He was upset, wondering if he’d really done enough. Wondering if he too, could make Makoto happy like others strived to. He gripped at the back of Makoto’s shirt. He always wanted Makoto to be a part of his life, and he wanted to give the man everything good that he deserved, to protect him from the bad, to be the one to take the hurt and damage from whoever tried to come after this precious man. 

He loved Makoto. He loved him like a brother. And so he would do everything he could to make sure Makoto was the happiest he could be.

x

Haru tapped his foot against the tile floor in displeasure as he watched the runaway train from afar. Ayame tugged on her gloves and acted like nothing was odd about wearing them inside a heated pool, and Sousuke looked like he was in another dimension as she talked his ear off.

“Are you listening to me?!” she yelled at one point, her voice shrill and high, and even Haru winced.

Everyone was stressed today. Next week was the beginning of the Olympics, and soon everyone here would be swimming in a pool a size they couldn’t even fathom, with other men from around the globe who had been practicing just as hard as them.

Sousuke, though, looked especially wound up. He looked like he could barely listen to Ayame anymore, and Haru could imagine she’d been talking his ear off non-stop. She screeched something as he waved his hands and walked off, his face twisted up with indecision and worry. Haru watched Ayame fume as she watched him walk away. Haru stood, stepping forward until he got her attention, and slowly he turned his body to follow Sousuke.

Her reaction was instant. Her eyes narrowed and her whole body attuned to him, and he tossed the smallest little smile over his shoulder at her. _Crash and burn, manipulative bitch._

It wasn’t that he exactly liked Sousuke enough to do this, but they had a history together, and despite everything and the pain he had caused, Haru still found himself wishing that he could get Ayame’s claws out of the man and break her hold on him. Besides, that woman had hurt his best friend, and above all else, that was the most important factor. Karma was a bitch, as they said, and Haru was prepared to be that bitch.

Sousuke stopped just outside the bathrooms, slowly turning, knowing someone had been following him. He looked ready to tell Ayame to go back, his face tired, but his eyes opened in surprise when he saw Haru there instead.

“Oh,” was all he said, Haru advancing up to him on quiet feet.

“I have something to tell you. Do you want to listen?”

Sousuke frowned, deciding. He looked Haru up and down like the answer would be found there. Haru clicked his tongue, caught Sousuke’s gaze, and said slowly, “It has to do with Makoto-“

“Tell me now.” There was no hesitation in his voice as his words cut through the air and cut off Haru. Sousuke’s fists clenched by his side, and his eyes narrowed, hyper focused. Haru nodded; if anything, Sousuke was still concerned about the other man, and that was all Haru needed for now. If all he could do for payback was to make Sousuke break her heart and ruin all of her dreams, well... he’d be glad to do it.

Haru waved Sousuke further down, behind the softly humming vending machines that sat in the small waiting area. He took a seat, but Sousuke opted for standing.

“What is it?” asked Sousuke impatiently. His fingers trembled against his legs.

Haru glanced down the hallway, then back up at the other male. “It seems your little fiancée paid him a visit a few days ago.”

“What-? How did she know where-“

“Who knows. The point is, she found him. She wasn’t kind to him, Sousuke.” Haru’s eyes narrowed, and he watched Sousuke’s face carefully. He slowly lifted his hands, pulled on imaginary gloves. “Don’t you find the gloves odd? Outside, maybe, but in here?”

Sousuke blinked. “She won’t take them off,” he mumbled slowly.

“Makoto has a cat, you know. He loves that thing to death, and she adores him more than anything. Can you imagine what a cat like that might do to someone who hurts her precious human?”

Sousuke wasn’t following; Haru could see it. He stood up, ready to lay it all out.

“Ayame threatened Makoto to stay away from you, and she used physical violence to make sure the warning stuck. If you don’t believe me, ask her to take the gloves off. Either she’ll have scratches from defending herself or she won’t.”

“Ayame would never-“ Sousuke began, defending her. Haru hated the sound of it. No one had to spell it out for him; he knew the truth. Sousuke was the only one who wouldn’t see it. “Did Makoto tell you this?”

Haru pursed his lips. “And if he did?” he asked shortly.

Sousuke took a step back, unprepared. He was speechless, torn between his loyalty to Ayame and his not-yet-discovered love for Makoto. Yeah, Seijuro had been spot on. Only Sousuke was stupid enough to miss it.

“Why would she have to threaten him anyways? I haven’t seen him in months!” Sousuke’s face was turning red now, fists clenched again.

“Why don’t you ask her that? And ask her about the gloves.” Haru walked past Sousuke with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have to believe me, but at least make sure you know, a hundred percent, that I’m lying. Don’t just believe what you think you should.”

Haru was halfway down the hallway again when running footsteps caught up to him, and a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back around.

“How is he?” Sousuke begged to know.

Haru frowned down at the floor, still bitter in the end towards the man who had wrecked his friend so badly. As much as he wanted to hate Sousuke, though, he knew Makoto was still in love with him, and so he knew there had to be something about the man that he wasn’t seeing. Though, Makoto’s taste in men couldn’t be trusted as far as he could be thrown...

“Figure out the truth, Sousuke, and then if you prove you really care about him, I’ll tell you where he is so you can ask him yourself, how he’s doing.” Blue eyes jumped up and Sousuke dropped Haru’s arm. He was quiet, almost subservient. The wheels in his head were spinning; he was trying to figure out why Haru would lie. Well, it wasn’t a big mystery that most of the guys on the team didn’t like Ayame, though no one had said a word yet.

Haru sighed again, turning to walk away. He’d done all he could, aside from dragging Ayame out and ripping the gloves off her wretched hands himself. This would be Sousuke’s moment to prove himself. This would be the moment that decided a lot of other things in the future.

Haru hoped for Makoto’s sake that Sousuke chose well. 

x

Nagisa was quiet over the phone, which was so unusual for him. His breathing was soft against Makoto’s ear.

“How are you?” he asked softly, and Makoto gave a small smile that no one could see. “I’m... good. You know, hanging in there.”

Another pause, and Nagisa was probably nodding. The pause stretched on, and Makoto shifted on his feet. The pot before him held dinner, and he was scared to take his eyes off of it.

The bubbling of the curry inside and the soft breathing in his ear was soothing, but still Makoto felt his anxiety rising.

“What’s wrong, Nagisa?” he asked finally, about to jump out of his skin. He hadn’t expected a phone call from someone who abhorred talking on the phone and would rather type out three paragraphs than make a two minute call.

“It’s nothing bad. At least, I don’t think so. I just... don’t want you to be mad.” 

“Okay...?” Makoto whispered slowly.

“I talked to our manager, and he’s been itching to get you back, you know. I told him if he could keep out... certain people... that I’d ask you about coming back to work.”

Makoto swallowed.

“After I told him a little bit, he agreed in a heartbeat. I didn’t tell him too much, I promise, but Makoto, everyone misses you and wants you to come back.”

Makoto wasn’t even really mad about it, but there were reservations that kept him from agreeing immediately even as his heart sang at the opportunity. There were people who were trying to protect him and he couldn’t just trample on their hard work and effort to keep him safe by waltzing off to his old job.

“I have to...” Well, Seijuro would probably still laugh a little if Makoto asked for permission, but he couldn’t do it without the man’s blessing. “Let me think about it, okay?”

“Sure!” Nagisa yelped, sounding back to his old self. He laughed aloud, nervousness releasing. “Take your time, but please, Makoto. I know it would be so good for you. You had fun, didn’t you?”

“Of course!” Some days the work had been really hard on him, but he’d loved his coworkers, and he had had fun. “I miss it, too, but I have to... make sure. I want to be really okay with it. A lot happened there.”

Nagisa hummed softly, knowing very well. “Take your time,” he said again.

They said their goodbyes and Makoto put the phone down on the kitchen counter, staring at the bubbling pot of dinner. He wanted to go back so badly that it physically ached. Being locked up was driving him crazy, but... He reached up and slowly touched his scar. He wasn’t the same as before. He felt like damaged goods.

The door unlocked behind him and he turned to see Seijuro peeking his head around the corner. “Ah,” whispered Makoto softly, smiling.

“Missed me?” Seijuro joked as he walked up. He took a better look at Makoto’s face, smile falling as he asked next, “What’s wrong?”

Makoto gave a small smile, his mind made up.

“Seijuro, is there any way that I could go back to work? Please...?” 

x

Sousuke couldn’t get Haru’s words out of his head. There were a lot of things he hadn’t been able to get out of his head lately. But every time he looked at Ayame, he convinced himself Haru was lying to him. He convinced himself so often that he stopped finding his own convincing believable, and he started noticing tiny cracks in his logic that she was innocent.

In the back of his mind was a picture of Makoto, of him so faint and small and meek, nothing like the Makoto he’d known in high school, and it clung to him desperately. He wasn’t sure what even drove him anymore, but every time he was denied the chance to see the man, he only wanted to see him more. 

Ayame had started asking questions that he couldn’t answer, like where he was going and why his swim times weren’t improving as they should. He felt like he’d hit a wall, but he couldn’t tell anyone that, because that would mean admitting that there was someone out there who could occupy his mind more than winning and being the best.

Makoto was on his mind all the time now. Had he made a mistake back then, leaving him? Slowly, slowly, he was starting to regret some things. Slowly, he was starting to realize that maybe he didn’t deserve to see Makoto again.

One night after practice, in an effort to put these wandering thoughts to rest once and for all, he took Ayame’s gloved hand in his own and smiled at her as he invited her out for dinner. Spicy wings, her favorite; she couldn’t say no without arousing suspicion, but she couldn’t eat them with her gloves on either. If Haru wasn’t lying, this was the perfect trap.

Ayame stared up at Sousuke for a long time, confused. “What’s gotten into you?” she asked incredulously, and Sousuke’s heart kicked up in his chest.

But instead of letting it show, he combed his hand into her long hair and pulled her up into a deep kiss. Her lipgloss tasted sweet, and he licked along her lips to taste it. “I’ve missed you,” he husked against her mouth. “I wanted to take you on a date before it gets even more hectic.”

Ayame pulled back with a sweet smile, and she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered as she licked her own lips, his residue left there for her to taste, and he smiled as he watched her head out, telling him to go change and she’d be waiting. Glancing to the side, he saw Haru and Rin huddled together, blue eyes casting him a glance, and he pursed his lips. He didn’t want to believe Haru’s words, but why had that kiss just now felt a little less exciting than the ones before. Sousuke tried to recall it, but he felt the memory of her lips already fading away.

He turned on stiff legs and went to the locker room to change.

Like she said, she was waiting for him; he approached on quiet feet, listened as she mumbled to herself. He couldn’t understand her words, but he noticed how she fidgeted with her gloves, how her face shifted to shock when he tapped on her shoulder, her smile slow and a little too wide.

“Ready?” Sousuke asked slowly, as she stood and nodded, grabbing onto his arm like she always did. Sousuke had to turn away so his disappointment wouldn’t show; why was she acting like this?

He set off and mindlessly let her chatter on about this or that. She scolded him about his times and reminded him of the first official match coming up soon, not like he didn’t know. The more she talked, the more he felt himself disengage. His mind drifted to other things.

A sharp memory flashed back to him, Makoto standing on the side of the pool, _screaming_ encouragement down at him, tears in his eyes, his fists clenched, a determination in his face that said he knew Sousuke could do it. He’d been trying to beat the record of the guys he’d be racing the next day, and Makoto had been nothing but supportive as he stayed behind with Sousuke at the Samezuka pool. 

And when Sousuke had finally done it, Makoto had swooped down and hugged his wet body, sobbing that he was so proud, and then he’d kissed Sousuke. Without thinking, Sousuke reached up now and touched his lips; the memory of Makoto’s kiss back then was so much more vivid than the one he’d shared with Ayame just moments ago.

Ayame had never, ever said she was proud of him. She’d always pushed him harder, harder, never satisfied, while Makoto had celebrated every small victory, had always encouraged Sousuke...

Oh, why now did he miss the other man so badly?

“What’s wrong?” came Ayame’s sharp voice, and Sousuke had to force his face to smile down at her.

“Just stressed about the match coming up.”

“Well, you should be! You need to get your head back in the game; you’ll never win with the times you’re making right now-“

Sousuke stared at the top of her head in disbelief. When he’d first met Ayame, he thought she would help him achieve his goals, that she would be the best for him in pushing him on, but the more she talked lately, the more he found himself wondering whose dream he was chasing. Suddenly, winning gold at the Olympics wasn’t as exciting anymore.

He pursed his lips and kept his thoughts hidden inside. He smiled woodenly as they were seated at the restaurant, trying to focus on his fiancée’s face when all he wanted was to see her take her gloves off and put a rest to the war inside his mind.

Their wings came, and Ayame praised how good they smelled. She dropped her hands below the table, and when she lifted them again, they were bare. She picked up her first wing and bit into it, Sousuke already on his fifth wing by now. He felt mentally drained.

He dropped his last wing on his plate in record time, not even having remembered eating them at all. All he could see were the tiny, red scratches on Ayame’s hands. Once in a while, her sleeves would slip down and he’d see the beginning of a trail of angrier red cuts down her forearm. He felt sick; his appetite was gone. The smile he had to keep on his face made him want to throw up.

_Makoto… Makoto, I’m so sorry._

In his mind raced one single word, over and over.

_Why?_

Why would she attack Makoto? Why would she hurt his precious... _Ah_.


	17. What Am I To You?

Makoto lay curled up on Seijuro’s couch, tucked against the other man’s side, the TV tuned to watch the first official swimming match of the Olympics in Tokyo. The first two matches, the 100 meter backstroke and breaststroke were swam first. It felt like it was over in moments. They cheered on the Japanese swimmers, but it was no one they recognized.

There was chatter amongst the crowd, journalists clambering about to interview the winners of the races, while in the background, the next swimmers took up their positions. Makoto was shocked to see Rin taking up the spot for the Japanese team in the 100 meter butterfly. Off to the side stood Sousuke, Ayame fuming at his side. Despite what was probably a hot climate inside the building, she wore long sleeves and gloves. Makoto hugged Peanut Butter to his chest.

The match began soon, and Makoto found himself sitting up and yelling at the TV, crying, shouting encouragements to Rin even though the man couldn’t hear him. When Rin placed for silver, Makoto cried.

“He’ll do better next time,” Seijuro said with determination as a reporter caught Rin for an interview, and they saw the fire in his red eyes. Behind them, Haru was standing stock still, waiting for Rin.

“I can do better,” Rin confidently told the reporter, grinning his white, flashy teeth. He gave a wave into the camera and then turned to jog over to Haru, who gave him a small smile and a nod before the camera shifted. Someone was trying to get an interview from Sousuke, but he waved them off, not at all interested. Ayame huffed and grabbed him to say something in his ear, but his eyes weren’t focused on her. No, he was focused on the pool before them. Makoto could imagine he was itching to get in and swim. He slowly stretched, showing off his hard training. Other things were happening on screen, but Makoto couldn’t tear his eyes away from Sousuke’s back.

“Haru’s up,” said Seijuro as he sat up now too, next to Makoto. Green eyes shifted to his best friend’s back on the screen, watched the man calmly pull on his cap and goggles, watched the way Rin grinned at him, giving him unneeded encouragement. They were so relaxed, even in this setting. Makoto would have been tied up in a million knots, but that’s why it was them and not him.

From the moment Haru dove in, Makoto’s eyes were glued to him. As he always had been, he was beautiful in the water, gliding through effortlessly. When he slid up out of the water to claim his gold, with only a split second between him and the second guy, Rin leaned down and helped Haru out, more words exchanged that no one but them could hear. Rin looked so proud, and it brought tears to Makoto’s eyes. More than anything, he had wanted to be someone’s support like that. His eyes shifted back to Sousuke, who was standing by himself now, Ayame on the bench behind. _More than anything..._ He clenched his fist in his lap, and Seijuro covered it with his own hand like he could read his mind.

Next, the 4x100 meter freestyle relay was announced, and Makoto’s heart soared as Sousuke finally stepped up to the pool, flanked by Haru, Rin, and one other swimmer. Quietly, they huddled together and spoke. When they broke, there was an air around them, that they couldn’t be defeated. Makoto felt it even through the TV as the camera panned over the Japanese team; he was on the edge of his seat. There was no way they couldn’t win this. He squeezed his hands tight.

The sound of the starting pistol seemed to ring into the small apartment, and Makoto felt like he was right there with them. Rin was first, then the man Makoto didn’t know, then Haru, and by this time they were pulling for second place already. Sousuke took his place as Haru swam his lap, and Makoto could almost feel the raw power vibrating off the man’s skin as he waited, ready to go the very instant Haru touched the side of the pool.

And he was off. Not as graceful as Haru, but beautiful in his own way, he dove over the water and made a perfect dip down into the crystal clear pool. He swam like he was barely human, every movement perfect, his whole body fighting. Makoto reached to the side and gripped at Seijuro’s arm, too anxious to even breathe. He watched the time tick by on the screen. He was begging, praying, believing that Sousuke could do it.

When Sousuke pushed up out of the water at the end and the times flashed up on the screen, Makoto jumped off the couch and screamed in excitement. There, at the top of the time board, sat the Japanese flag, with a time .65 seconds faster than the US team. Three bodies swarmed around Sousuke, and Makoto almost cried when Rin reached out to pull Sousuke out of the pool. He _was_ crying when Sousuke’s lips turned up into a proud smile, as high-fives were exchanged. By the time they broke apart, Makoto was sobbing. Reporters swarmed. There was a break coming, and everyone was pulled first for group interviews, and then individual ones. Suddenly, Sousuke’s face filled half the screen, and the reporter was beaming as she asked him, “This was the first time getting into the pool just now, how did it feel?”

“Incredible,” Sousuke said with a dazed look in his eyes. He looked into the camera and Makoto had to sit down heavily, tears making it hard to see. He was having a hard time breathing; when was the last time he’d heard Sousuke’s voice?

“And what were you thinking about?”

Piercing aqua eyes seemed to stare directly at Makoto. “I just wanted to win, for the person who always cheered me on, who always believed in me.”

“Ah, your fiancée!” exclaimed the reporter as she waved Ayame over, the woman beaming wide now as she clacked her way over to Sousuke. Her make-up was heavy, and she was wearing heels again. Sousuke’s reaction, however, was slow; it took him a moment to glance over at her, and then another to slowly open his arm for her to step up beside him. She gave him a short look of confusion, a laugh like it was an inside joke, but Sousuke wasn’t looking at her anymore.

“Yeah,” he said carefully, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. His tone went a little flat. Was Makoto imagining it? “Ayame really did a lot to make me push myself this race. Thanks to her, I realized what I wanted more than anything, and that was the gold.”

The reporter was nodding enthusiastically, not aware, but Ayame’s smile was going a little stiff, and Makoto’s heart was racing.

“What’s going on?” he whispered to no one in particular. Seijuro didn’t respond, silent beside Makoto.

“Why don’t you say a few words to your fiancée here on screen for us?” the reporter asked now, beaming like this was the most brilliant idea in the world. Sousuke blinked for a moment, but then he turned and his face melted into a smile, a light in his eyes that made Makoto’s stomach warble.

“Sure. Ayame, darling, do you still have that ring I gave you?”

Ayame looked suddenly flustered. “Oh... of course...” she said, trying to pull her smile back and recover from her moment of surprise. She laughed as she held up her hand as if to show it off, but her gloves covered it.

“Take off the glove, darling,” Sousuke laughed like it was a funny joke. He turned to the reporter and winked. Makoto could barely stand to watch.

Ayame fumbled with her gloves, her cheeks going dark red, her eyes cast down, and god, she was fighting so hard to keep her smile on her face. Makoto couldn’t sit and watch this anymore. He stood in a rush and froze as his head went light.

“Ooh,” the reporter crooned. “Isn’t this just a gorgeous ring! You should show it off more! No need for gloves,” she laughed easily.

Makoto turned and slowly walked away.

“Can I see it?”

He barely recognized Sousuke’s voice. It froze him again. He could feel Seijuro watching him.

“Can I see the ring you bought yourself and used to trick me into proposing to you?”

Deathly silence fell over the room, everyone close to the scene on screen going quiet. Makoto couldn’t look. His stomach was in his throat.

“Sousuke,” Ayame tried with a laugh, but Sousuke barked out, at his breaking point, “Take it off, Ayame.”

Makoto slowly turned back to the TV. Sousuke’s whole face was red with anger, and Ayame looked like she was about to cry. Was she upset about what was happening or just the fact that she was being exposed? Makoto couldn’t tell if she’d ever really loved Sousuke in that moment.

She handed him the ring with shaking hands and he tossed it behind him, into the trash. The reporter gasped, but Sousuke didn’t take his fiery eyes off Ayame for a single moment.

“I have to thank you, Ayame. More than anything you made me hate swimming, but you also made me remember the person who made me fall in love with it, the person who had always cheered me on, who always believed in me. Because of you, I remembered them, and I remembered why I wanted to win. So, somehow, thanks for that.”

Sousuke’s hand lifted, and a split second later, it cracked hard across Ayame’s face, and now everyone in the center went silent. A harsh red mark flashed across her face in the shape of his hand.

“This,” Sousuke hissed low, “is for assaulting that very person and hurting them for simply existing. Your jealousy is ugly, my dear. I don’t ever want to see your face again.”

Sousuke turned back to the reporter, bowed his head, and then he stalked off. There was a glimpse of Ayame’s face, red, messy with tears, barely holding in anger and frustration, before the reporter stepped up and blocked the camera, giving a shaky, “Well...”

“Turn it off,” Makoto whispered, tears blocking his sight as they collected fat and heavy. “Please turn it off,” he begged.

Was he happy? Was he upset? Embarrassed? Mad? Had Sousuke really meant him when he’d said all those things? What was it all supposed to mean?

Seijuro approached, but Makoto raised his hands to hold him back.

He wanted to see Sousuke. He wanted an explanation. He wanted... to see him. Seijuro slowly looked Makoto up and down. They stood silent like that for a long time, Makoto’s emotions too hard to sort and analyze.

Makoto’s phone chimed in his pocket.

 _They removed Sousuke from the team for public violence and disruption of an official event._ Haru texted.

Makoto wanted to see him.

“Seijuro, if I... go to the pool, will he... come?”

“Makoto, maybe it’s not a good idea-“

Green eyes filled with too much emotion raised, and he looked Seijuro dead in the eyes.

“Just a minute, I just... I want to see him, Sei,” Makoto mumbled to himself, his voice shaky.

“Okay,” whispered Seijuro. “Okay, if you’re sure...”

“Yes,” whispered Makoto fiercely to the floor. Yes, he was very sure. He still wasn’t sure how he would react, what he would say, would he slap Sousuke-?

But yes, god, he wanted to see him. He touched the scar on his face. Even now, he still wanted so badly...

Seijuro wiped at the brunet’s tears streaming down, the ones Makoto hadn’t even realized were there. “Okay,” he whispered quietly.

x

The night was warm, but Makoto was still bundled up in a windbreaker and jeans. He’d gotten used to it, since he’d been constantly cold last winter. He had more meat on his bones now, but the habit to wrap up in layers hadn’t broken yet.

Seijuro was silent beside him. He’d promised to stay out the way, but he wasn’t about to let Makoto go out by himself. Makoto was silently grateful for it.

The area around the building was dark, only a few streetlights on at the street corners. Makoto shivered in the humid air, his stomach twisting up again. He had no guarantee that Sousuke would even show up. Inside, Seijuro turned on a few lights, and then went to hide himself away in the front office. He would have a good view of anyone who came in, but would be out of sight for Makoto to have his privacy. 

Makoto chose a spot around the corner; the only light reaching here was a little bit from the front hall and the glow of the vending machines. The hum of the machines felt familiar by now, comforting. Makoto sat himself down on the closest bench, and he pulled his phone out as he tucked his legs up under himself. He was prepared to hunker down and wait.

Not even thirty minutes later, the front door opened and a deep voice murmured, carried in the silence. Seijuro gave a short response, and Makoto listened with closed eyes as the footsteps came closer to where he sat. He shut his eyes and ducked his head down; he was beyond anxious now, his stomach gurgling. He clenched his hands around his phone, his heart beating so loud that he barely noticed when the footsteps stopped.

The voice he’d been longing to hear for so long finally broke the silence with an emotional whisper of, “Makoto.”

Green eyes snapped open, and he slowly peered to his right. There, standing with his back to the low light from the hallway, stood Sousuke. He seemed taller, beefier somehow. Makoto’s throat was dry.

“Hello,” he croaked out.

Sousuke shuffled closer like Makoto’s greeting had been his permission, and he sank down to the floor in front of the other man.

“My god,” he whispered. Aqua eyes looked Makoto’s hunched form over. “Can I... see you?”

Sousuke slowly rose back to his feet, a hand held out for Makoto to take. He took it with great trepidation, just the tips of his fingers to Sousuke’s palm, and he slowly rose to his own feet.

“You’ve gained weight,” Sousuke said like it was the greatest relief for him.

“Seijuro’s been feeding me,” Makoto whispered, and he watched from under his lashes as Sousuke’s lips twisted up a little into a frown.

“What about Kai?” he asked stiffly.

“Well... he’s...” Makoto turned his face away without even thinking, and he heard Sousuke gasp softly.

“My god,” he hushed again, but this time his tone was different. It felt dangerous. Makoto smacked a hand up over his scar, but Sousuke grabbed it out of the air and pulled it back. When Makoto glanced at him again, wincing, Sousuke’s eyes were filled with raw anger.

“What the fuck’s he done to you?”

Makoto felt for the first time since the accident, ugly. He bit his lip harshly to force back his tears. He had been ruined, hadn’t he? Not that he was that much to look at to begin with. “I’m sorry,” he forced out, his voice thick. He had made the wrong choice, he thought.

“Don’t apologize for that asshat,” Sousuke growled. Then, softer, sorrowful, “My god, Makoto. What has he done?”

Makoto wrenched his arm away from the other man and turned harshly away. “More importantly,” he lashed out in anger thanks to his pain, “what made you do such an idiotic thing?! You’d finally achieved your dream-!”

“It wasn’t my dream anymore, not with the way she was about it. It was choking me, but I thought I could deal with it, for the dream. But when I saw those scratches on her hands and I thought of what she had done to you-“

“It wasn’t your fault-“

“Yes, it was! Because I-“ Sousuke stopped there, words falling to silence. “Makoto, I came here nearly every day in hopes of seeing you-“

Makoto whirled around, eyes wide with shock. “Wha-?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Sousuke frowned. Then, under his breath, “Of course he didn’t...” 

Makoto felt tears welling up. “What about everything you’d worked so hard for?”

Sousuke carefully dropped his hand and shuffled on his feet. “I couldn’t remember in the end if I’d worked hard because I wanted to or because she made me.” His voice sounded hollow, defeated. “I’m sorry I gave up on our dream.”

Makoto turned fully back to Sousuke now, tears spilling. “It was never meant to be for me, but Sousuke, you... you could have been something so great-“

“I didn’t want to do it if it wasn’t with you.”

Silence fell again, Makoto shocked speechless, and Sousuke didn’t seem to have anything else to add or amend to that statement.

Makoto gave a hollow laugh. “I didn’t think you thought of it that way.” 

“I didn’t think so either,” admitted Sousuke.

Makoto pursed his lips, head lowering back down. The silence stretched between them, until a big, warm hand slowly cupped around Makoto’s scarred jaw.

“I’m so sorry, Makoto.”

“It’s not like it’s your fault,” Makoto laughed flippantly. “I did that to myself.”

“I’ll beat the shit out of him for you.”

Makoto wavered between telling him not to and begging him to do it. In the end, he said nothing.

“Why did you do it?” he asked again, still not understanding. he slowly reached out and grabbed hold of the folds on Sousuke’s shirt, gripping them loosely.

Sousuke sighed wearily. “I was mad,” he said finally. “I didn’t want to win feeling like that, knowing I could do better.”

Makoto looked up slowly. “You looked beautiful... in the water.” He turned deep red. “Like I remember,” he choked out.

“And you,” whispered Sousuke as he reached up again to caress Makoto’s marred skin. He worked his way through the words he wanted to say, but in the end he just let his words drop away, feeling too much and so confused about it.

“I’m sorry,” Makoto whispered, ashamed. “I just wanted to... ask you why you’d done it. You don’t have to feel obligated to see me again-“

“What if I want to? See you again, I mean?”

Makoto’s head jerked up and he blinked in surprise. “What?” he asked in confusion.

“I’ve been trying to see you for forever now, I won’t be satisfied with just this once.”

Makoto gave an awkward laugh. “Don’t feel like you owe me anything-“

Sousuke frowned, confused. “I don’t? I just want to see you.”

A long sigh released from his lips, his hand dropping to Makoto’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry for what happened between us in the past. I thought it was the best choice, to leave you like that.”

Makoto smiled up through his tears. “You had a dream to pursue. I don’t blame you for that.”

“Still, I did it in the worst way possible. You’d never done anything to deserve that kind of treatment.” His lips twisted again and he whispered, “And to think...” His thumb reached up to trace the lines of the scar.

“I’m so sorry, Makoto.”

Makoto ducked his head down and pressed his lips together. His emotions were running rampant. “I’m sorry, too,” he whispered to the ground.

“No, you don’t have anything to apologize for. You are blameless in all of this. I just hope one day you can forgive me.”

Makoto raised his head in a jerk to say there was no need for forgiveness, but the true sorrow on Sousuke’s face gave him pause. He shouldn’t so flippantly dismiss the man’s pain and worry, nor his own. He knew that better than anyone else. He couldn’t just pretend the pain had never happened, had never led him down this road. As much as he wanted it to be so simple, it wasn’t simple at all. He pressed his lips together again and gave a small nod.

“You didn’t have to hit her,” he said finally in a small voice.

Sousuke turned his face away and gave a dry laugh. “No, maybe not, but to think of her touching you like that made me so angry, I couldn’t stop myself.”

Makoto frowned sadly at the ground. “Where will you go from here?” Anything to distract from his feelings for Sousuke and how they were being stirred up by his mere presence.

“I think I’ll try reminding myself why I love to swim again. Maybe one day I’ll try out for the Olympics again, but for now, I just want to enjoy it.”

Makoto looked up, quizzical look in his green eyes. “I thought you lived for the competition and the push to be the best.”

“I thought I did too,” Sousuke said slowly, thumb flicking again over Makoto’s cheek as his eyes lost focus. There was something so different about him now. He was softer than he had been back then.

“Well,” whispered Makoto, hopeful though he knew he shouldn’t be. “Maybe one day we can swim together again.”

Aqua eyes lit up like a kid’s on Christmas morning, and Sousuke grinned wide. “God, I’d love that.”

Makoto stepped away and gave a shy smile. “Well, I’ll see you around, I guess.” 

“Ah-!” Sousuke closed the gap again and rushed, “Sorry, can I hug you?”

Makoto nodded in wide-eyed bewilderment before he could think it through, and warm, big arms wrapped around him, lifted him up and pulled his body to a solid chest. He inhaled deeply of chlorine and Sousuke’s scent that hadn’t changed since back then. He was hit in the face with a full range of emotions. “Makoto, I’m truly sorry for the past, and I hope you can forgive me, and one day, maybe, we can...” There was a shaky sigh that rumbled against Makoto’s chest. Makoto reached up to give the man a small pat on the back. Whatever he’d been about to say, Makoto didn’t think he should say something he didn’t mean.

They parted slowly, Sousuke’s lips twisted in confused frustration. “Can I ask you something?”

Makoto blinked. “Yeah? Sure.”

“Seijuro. What is he to you?”

Makoto’s face bloomed into a big smile and he glanced down the hall. “He’s like family. He’s one of my best friends.”

“And do you think he feels the same way?” 

Makoto’s face shifted into confusion. “Of course!”

Sousuke just gave a slow nod. “So there’s a chance for me?” he murmured as he reached forward and stroked his forefinger over Makoto’s soft cheek.

Makoto let out a short laugh. “A chance for you to what?” He stared up at Sousuke. His heart was beating out of his chest, and all he could do was concentrate on keeping it locked inside his rib cage. Makoto couldn’t expect anything from Sousuke, not what he wanted from the man anyways. At most, he should be happy with restoring their friendship. He clutched his hands to his chest.

Sousuke just gave the other a crooked smile, and a slow nod. “I won’t give up,” he murmured. “How about... your phone number for now?”

Makoto smiled wide then and nodded. He nearly dropped the phone Sousuke handed him to put in his information. He handed it back with shaky hands.

“I hope you find the thing that makes you happy,” Makoto said with a smile even as his heart tore apart to say it, knowing it likely wouldn’t be him.

Sousuke opened his mouth to say something, but Seijuro swept in then and cut the other off. “It’s getting late. Let’s head back home.”

Seijuro glanced back at Sousuke, flashing a toothy grin as Sousuke’s lips twisted down.

Sousuke stalked past the two and out the front door. Under his breath, he mumbled, “Damn it, Seijuro.” Then, with a deep inhale of the air outside, “What had I been about to say? I already found the thing that makes me happy?”

Sousuke looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet in confusion. “Am I... in love with him?”

x

Rin slammed his drink down on Seijuro’s kitchen table, having aggressively chugged his alcohol since Makoto had started his tale.

“So in the end, he asked for my number and I gave it to him.”

“You idiot!” roared Rin, Haru slapping him upside the head with a roll of his eyes. Rin frowned and leaned heavy into his hand, elbow on the table. Seijuro was trying to hide a smile behind his palm, and Makoto didn’t know what to make of a drunken Rin.

“I think what Rin wants to know is why you gave him your number?” Haru clarified in a calm tone.

Makoto looked down at the cell phone in his hands and frowned. Could he tell them that he’d genuinely missed talking to Sousuke? They used to talk all the time, before Makoto had confessed. Part of him missed that easy relationship; had he been foolish to think it would be so easy?

“Makoto, don’t let him hurt you again,” Rin seethed, reaching out to grab Makoto’s hands. Green eyes flicked up to watery red. Rin looked ready to cry at the drop of a hat. “He’s a stupid idiot who doesn’t deserve your attention! Let him rot! He’s a scoundrel for treating you so bad!”

Haru cooed down at Rin, trying to calm him with a back rub, but Rin looked determined to get his message across.

“I mean it, M’koto! If he tries anything dirty, you tell me, okay? And until he gets down on his knees and begs you, no, grovels at your feet, don’t forgive him for anything!”

Makoto squeezed his hands together and lowered his eyes. He’d thought it would be easy to forgive Sousuke, but the words hadn’t come out last night. It was easier now to lie and say, “I’ve already forgiven him for the past, Rin.”

Rin howled, truly upset, and Seijuro leaned forward to wrap his arm around Makoto’s shoulders.

“It’s up to you, Makoto. Just do what makes you happy, okay?”

Haru was watching Seijuro with hawk eyes, and he swiveled them to Makoto after a moment of silence. “Seijuro’s saying that he will kill Sousuke if he doesn’t make you happy.”

Rin raised his glass to that, cheering. “If Sousuke makes our precious Mako upset, we’ll beat him to a pulp!”

“Rin,” Haru scolded lovingly. Makoto turned to Seijuro, the redhead flashing him a smile.

“Really,” he whispered as he rubbed Makoto’s cheek with his hooked finger. He smiled sweetly. “Don’t let him walk all over you.”

“I won’t,” Makoto nodded slowly. If he was honest, he hadn’t even dared to text Sousuke yet, and the other had been silent as well. It was no wonder though; surely he needed some time to process. He’d lost his fiancée and his dream all in one day.

“Thanks, guys,” Makoto said softly, smiling at his friends. If it wasn’t for the people who had pulled him out of every dark hole he’d tried to crawl into, he wouldn’t be here right now. He loved each of them in ways he couldn’t describe, like the family he missed so dearly.

He clutched his hand to his heart and let Seijuro pull him into his side. He sipped on his virgin piña colada.

He was so grateful. 

x

Nagisa was grinning through the grainy video chat feed on his phone. He sat in a very familiar dressing room, wearing barely anything, but that didn’t phase Makoto. Behind him, Kisumi was trying to get a good view of Makoto, blocking the shot of Nagisa.

“Makoto, my baby, you look like you’ve gained weight! Ugh, I miss you, come back!” Kisumi blew kisses at the screen as Nagisa tried to push him away.

“Makoto! I talked to the boss man! Kai’s been banned from the club, and so-“

“Come back and dance with us, Mako~!” yelped Kisumi, stealing Nagisa’s thunder. The blond sagged in defeat, pulling the phone to his chest.

“What Kisumi said,” he pouted.

Makoto scratched at his head, slowly trying to process the information. It was true that he wouldn’t have considered going back to work with the threat of Kai looming over him, but aside from that... Makoto gently touched his scar.

“I still don’t know if it’s a good fit for me,” he whispered quietly. 

“Why?” Nagisa asked boldly. “You’re beautiful!”

There was fumbling and a yell, and then Kisumi’s face filled the screen. “Nagisa told me what that bastard did to you, and you listen here, baby doll. You’re gorgeous, any man would be lucky to have you, and I don’t think any self-respecting man at this establishment would ever say no to you.”

“Aside from that, we miss you and we all want you back.”

Nagisa wrestled his phone back with a big huff. “Well, he’s not lying,” he relented. He offered a smile to Makoto. “Think about it, but let me know soon, okay?”

Makoto gave a small nod, rubbing his thumb nervously over the edge of his phone case, another new habit he’d picked up.

He ended the video call with Nagisa and clicked into his messages. He hadn’t opened the new message yet; it had been sitting waiting since last night. Just a simple, innocent, “Hey,” from Sousuke.

With trembling hands, Makoto clicked on Sousuke’s name and typed out a short, “Hi.”

He locked his screen as fast as he could and stood up, pressing the phone to his chest. He tip-toed out to the living room, Seijuro turning with a smile and automatically lifting his arm for Makoto to slide against him.

“What is it, boo?” Seijuro asked even as his eyes were glued to the TV.

Makoto kindly waited for a commercial to come on. He lowered his head and murmured quietly, “I’d like to go back to work, I think?”

Seijuro turned, full attention on the brunet now. “At the club?” His lips were tugged down in a small frown.

“Nagisa said everyone’s been asking after me, and the boss has banned Kai from the club.”

Seijuro turned back to the TV, the wheels in his head turning as he mindlessly stared at the silent screen, the flashing images.

“Is that what you really want to do?”

“I can’t keep mooching off of you,” Makoto began, stopping Seijuro before he could object. “And I miss my friends there. I had fun working there.”

Seijuro nodded slowly, still thinking. “Okay, but on one condition.”

Makoto perked up and looked up eagerly. “Anything!”

“I drive you to and from work. And you tell me if anyone starts bothering you.”

“That’s two things,” giggled Makoto. Earnest gold eyes turned on him and his laugh turned to a sweet smile. “Of course.”

He wrapped his arms around Seijuro’s chest and giggled again. “Thank you so much!”

Seijuro pulled Makoto closer and kissed the top of his head. “I can’t stand to see you sad,” he whispered against fluffy brown hair.

Makoto’s cheeks turned pink and he smiled against Seijuro’s chest. How had he gotten so lucky with a friend like this?

He thanked his lucky stars every day for Seijuro, for his love and unwavering loyalty, and his determination to pursue happiness for Makoto.

“Thank you for everything,” Makoto whispered fiercely, grinning, eyes shut tight lest he cry. “I love you, Sei.”

“Love you too, Mako,” Seijuro responded easily, another hug, as they settled into their easy routine for the night. The phone at Makoto’s feet lay forgotten as it buzzed. He’d tell Nagisa tomorrow.


	18. Blessed Beyond Measure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s a bit longer 🥰

Nagisa was beaming from ear to ear, and Kisumi looked like he could barely hide his excitement. They watched with wide eyes and bated breath as Makoto tried on his uniform again. They’d ordered him a new one, and Makoto had been pleasantly surprised to find he needed a larger size than before.

Nagisa flitted up and tucked his finger into the waist band of Makoto’s lace panties, grinning wide and crooning. Kisumi was tossing out compliments left and right as Makoto tried to fit himself in the tiny shorts and crop top.

“Oh my gosh, Makoto, you look so wonderful now. You’re gonna have so many customers begging for you. Seriously, if you get on the pole you’ll be number one in no time. Men would throw themselves at that ass.”

Makoto was beet red from the attention, but when he finally buttoned up his shorts and Nagisa shuffled him towards the full length mirror in the small break room, Makoto couldn’t help but admit that he did fill out the uniform much better than he had a year ago. He slowly turned this way and that, running his hands down his front. How long had it been since he’d looked in the mirror and liked what he saw? His abs were gone, but his skin didn’t cling to his bones anymore, and he looked human again, healthy. Still, though, in the back of his mind was a voice that whispered that he’d gotten fat, let himself go.

“Do I really look okay?” he whispered, vulnerabilities showing. Nagisa was quick to hug him and assure him quietly that he looked perfect. Makoto turned shyly to the door where Seijuro stood quietly watching it all, smiling at the brunet.

“You look wonderful, Makoto,” the redhead said with a proud smile, knowing it was his food that had filled Makoto out again. Makoto blushed a little darker and Nagisa hooted at the two of them. Seijuro raised his hands and waved it off, laughing.

“It’s almost time to open,” said Rei, poking his head around the jamb of the door, smiling once he saw Makoto. He stepped to fill in the rest of the door frame and nodded his approval. Nagisa beamed proudly, like it was all his hard work that had gotten Makoto back here. Well, he should be proud, thought Makoto sweetly, smiling at his friends.

“Come on,” Kisumi said as he jumped up in his booty shorts and pasties, grinning as he wrapped himself around Makoto’s right arm, Nagisa claiming his left. They pulled him out and into the main part of the club, and as Makoto looked around, a nervous jitter settled in his stomach. He wrung his hands together as they began to sweat, trying not to let it show. Nagisa and Kisumi danced off to prepare for the night, and Seijuro quietly stepped up behind Makoto, a warm hand to the small of his back as he leaned down to whisper, “Would a drink help?”

Makoto turned and nodded, swallowing his nervousness. Seijuro moved to the bar and asked Rei for a small, sweet cocktail, and a gin and tonic for himself. Makoto watched, mesmerized once again as Rei set to work. He’d forgotten how much he loved to watch the man make drinks. Seijuro sat and waved Makoto over, pulling him between his legs and hugging his waist.

“You’ll do amazing, Makoto. It’ll be like riding a bike. And if anyone tries to pull anything, you just let us know.”

Rei watched them, nodding now in agreement. Something strong rose up in Makoto and he remembered fondly what it had felt like working here, like he was part of a family. He clenched his hands together on top of the bar and nodded, resolved. “Thank you all, so much.”

Rei and Seijuro smiled at him, knowingly and proudly. They had both seen Makoto at his lowest, and seen him rise again to where he was now, and while neither could really put it into words, they both were so proud of him.

Rei slid Makoto a new apron, order pad, and pen, and Makoto tied the apron over his small shorts, stuffing his pad and pen inside. The apron was big enough to just barely cover the front of his tiny shorts, and when he used to feel particularly frisky, he would slide his apron to his hip to show off his goods in his tiny shorts. Today he would start small.

It wasn’t very busy that night, but by the end, Makoto still had a whole wad of tips in his apron and stuffed into the waistband of his shorts, and his confidence was wavering on almost too high. When Seijuro and Rei flashed him their thumbs up, the redhead tired but happy, Makoto had to turn away so he wouldn’t burst into happy tears from all the love and support. Nagisa and Kisumi swirled around him, clamoring as they all worked to clean up the club, and Makoto felt like he could do anything. He gripped his empty tray to himself as he turned back from the bar to collect more glasses and plates, hiding his big smile behind it. His eyes once in a while flitted curiously to the stage, but for now, he was happy just being here again.

The best part, though, came at the end of the night when Nagisa hauled out his old jar of tips, dusted it off, and handed it back to Makoto. Makoto felt overwhelmed, hugging the thing to his chest, the only lifeline he thought he’d had for a long time. He stuffed half of his newly earned tips into the jar and stuffed the rest into his pocket. Seijuro was there waiting at the door for him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he led Makoto to his car in the parking lot.

Makoto pulled out his tips and pressed the loose bills into Seijuro’s open hand. The redhead looked down with wide-eyed surprise.

“It’s not nearly enough, but I promise I’ll work hard and slowly pay off-“

A thick finger to his lips stopped him, and Seijuro pressed the money back into Makoto’s hands. “Use it to buy yourself something nice. Spending time with you has been more than enough for me.”

“But-“

Seijuro smiled, leaning over to press a kiss to Makoto’s cheek. “Hungry?” he asked as he pulled back again with a big smile.

Reluctantly, eyes down at the money on his lap, Makoto nodded. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so hungry after work. Usually he’d just gone right to bed, but despite how tired Seijuro was, he made Makoto some bacon and eggs, and watched happily as the other ate it all up.

No one had to bribe Makoto to clean up his plate anymore. Whether or not Makoto noticed the difference, Seijuro would always feel pride swell in his chest at the sight. Yes, Makoto had grown and changed a lot, and slowly, slowly, he would learn to love himself again, to fight for his own happiness once more, and never again settle. Seijuro knew Makoto was headed down the right path.

x

As Makoto grew a little more confident each day from working at the club, he found himself slowly texting Sousuke back more and more. It was usually short conversations, speckled with a lot of apologies from Sousuke, worry about his well being. Sousuke always started every conversation off by asking the other if he was doing okay, was he eating? Makoto found it cute and funny.

But despite Sousuke’s new behavior, and no matter how many times he apologized, Makoto still held back in their interactions. While he was pleasant with the man and would respond to his texts, he warned himself daily not to get attached again. The ache from their first break-up still left a gaping hole in him, and it wasn’t something that he might likely ever forget.

This was all temporary, he reminded himself yet again when Sousuke asked if he could see him. _Don’t get attached_ , he whispered when Sousuke sincerely wished him the best. Sometimes the man’s words left a bitter taste in Makoto’s mouth, and while he hated to admit it, he wondered if he would ever fully forgive Sousuke for what had happened back then.

Yes, he still loved him, but with that love came a pain that seemed untouchable, a wound that seemed incapable of healing at times. He tucked his feelings away and reminded himself for the millionth time, _don’t fall for it again, Makoto._

x

If Seijuro noticed, he didn’t say anything. Makoto had pulled the armchair he adored in front of the window and that’s how Seijuro had found him one day when he’d come home from the aquatic center. It wasn’t unusual, but the quiet in the apartment and the soft song playing on the small speaker in the kitchen tipped Seijuro off enough to know that this situation was different.

And yet he didn’t pry. Makoto was quiet for two days before Seijuro said a word about it.

“Makoto’s been quiet lately,” Rei had said on the second night as Seijuro swirled the ball of ice around in his drink, lost in thought. Gold eyes had shifted up to take in Rei’s soft expression as he looked out towards where Makoto was waiting tables. “He gets like that around this time every year.”

“He’s never talked about it, but I imagine that’s just his nature. I’m sure he’s just waiting for someone to ask how he’s doing.”

“Makoto,” Seijuro called quietly now as he set the last glass down after drying it, setting his dish towel aside and making his way into the living room where Makoto sat. The last rays of the sun bathed over his face, and he looked angelic, even with the sad look in his eyes. “Makoto, darling,” Seijuro called again.

When he didn’t respond, Seijuro sat himself down on the arm of the chair and began to rub soothing circles into the other’s back.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, I’m sure you know. But I’m here to listen if you need me to.”

Slowly, Makoto moved, like he hadn’t in ages, turning his face towards his friend, setting his cheek down on his knees. “Seijuro?” he whispered in something barely above audible.

“Hey, baby doll,” Seijuro said with a sweet smile. He reached out and stroked Makoto’s cheek. “Are you doing okay?”

And just like Rei had predicted, like those words were magic, Makoto’s eyes filled with tears and suddenly he was sobbing against Seijuro’s knees. The redhead swept him up as Makoto reached for him, sitting himself where Makoto had been and pulling the other into his lap. He hugged him tightly, listened with a breaking heart as Makoto wailed, as his whole body shook and he clutched at Seijuro’s shirt like it was the only thing he had. Seijuro rubbed his back and blinked away his own tears and waited. He waited and waited until the sun became warm on their bodies and Makoto settled against him in silence.

“No,” whispered Makoto, his breath ghosting hot over Seijuro’s neck. “I’m not okay.” Seijuro was quiet as he mulled over those words in his head.

“I think I’m doing okay, but it always hits me out of nowhere, and then I get so sad I can’t even think.” Makoto’s voice was soft and so sad. It broke Seijuro’s heart.

“It’s been two years, but it always hits me like a train. ...I miss my mom and dad.”

Makoto’s hands went tight again on Seijuro’s shirt, and a new kind of pain spread in Seijuro’s heart for this man in his arms. He knew very little of what had happened, but he knew enough to know about the car wreck that had taken Makoto’s parents’ lives. Was it the anniversary, then? Had Makoto been suffering with this quietly for all this time? Had he ever told anyone? Had anyone ever asked?

“What would they be doing now? Would I be home? Some days I can barely remember my mom’s voice, or the way my dad smiled at me. Days like that are the hardest of all, and I feel so... terrible... for forgetting-!”

How could Seijuro even speak to this pain? When his grandfather had died, he’d been barely old enough to remember, and his parents still called him every day to make sure he hadn’t burned the center down.

“Seijuro, am I... terrible? I just want to love the people that are given to me, but I can’t ever make a right choice to keep them safe, to keep them from worrying. If I hadn’t run off, if I had just stayed at home and told Mom and Dad...”

Seijuro grabbed up Makoto’s face and shook his own head hard, biting his cheek. “No, Makoto-! You’re an absolute treasure. You bring so much light and happiness to the world.”

Makoto’s hands grabbed onto Seijuro’s sleeves and he was crying again, clinging to the other. “I... don’t know... if I’m doing... anything right! Am I wrong? Is it wrong... that I want to be... happy?”

“No, sweetheart. No...” Seijuro leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Makoto’s, trying to absorb some of the brunet’s sorrow into his own body just so this wonderful person wouldn’t have to be so damn _sad_. “You try harder than anyone, and everyone who knows you can see that. You deserve so much happiness, and I’m sure your parents, too, want nothing but happiness for you. Baby, even when you’re sad like this, you’re never, _ever_ alone. And after you’re sad for a bit, you can get up again and be happy again. You’re allowed... to be happy.”

“Sei-“ Makoto sobbed, trying so hard to calm himself, but his voice broke on chest-ripping sobs. “Sei- Am I doing... okay? Is it okay... that I can’t figure anything out right?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s okay. Everyone has things that they struggle with, but what matters is that you try, and Makoto, you know, you try so, so hard. I see it. Everyone sees it.”

“Is that... okay?” Makoto begged again, shoulders shaking. Seijuro pulled him in again for another hug.

Over and over, he whispered, “It’s okay, it’s perfectly okay.”

As Makoto settled down again and slowly his sobs dropped to silence, Seijuro whispered, “It wasn’t your fault. None of it. Please don’t carry a burden like that, especially not alone.”

Makoto’s hair was matted to his face, and Seijuro slowly and carefully combed it away.

“You know everyone would cry if they saw you so sad like this. You have so many people who really love and care for you, and I know they would all say that you’re doing good, that you deserve to be happy.”

“Haru would be so mad...” Makoto whispered against Seijuro’s neck.

“Yeah, he’d probably show some emotion.”

It earned a giggle from Makoto. “He’s gotten a lot better,” he said with a shaky smile.

“Has he? God, he must have been awful before.”

“He wasn’t awful! He’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had.”

“I know,” said Seijuro with a smile as he pulled Makoto back and wiped his face. “And just like that, you can be sad, but afterwards you can smile again, and be happy.”

Slowly, Makoto nodded, his hand still on Seijuro’s sleeve.

“Next time, you can just tell me, or Haru, or Rin. You don’t have to carry that sadness all by yourself anymore.”

Makoto nodded again as he tugged at Seijuro’s sleeve.

“Tonight,” he whispered, “will you sleep in the bed with me? I don’t want to be alone...”

“Of course, love bug,” Seijuro said with a big smile, taking Makoto’s hand and kissing his palm. “Should I carry you to bed?”

“I can walk!” hushed Makoto in horror, but when he tried to stand, Seijuro just hugged him tighter.

“Too bad,” he laughed as he stood, Makoto in his arms. He carried the other to the bedroom and sat them down on the mattress. “Do you have work tonight? I can wake you up.”

Makoto nodded slowly. “But just for now,” he whispered as he tugged Seijuro down. Seijuro smiled as he pressed his face into soft, brown hair and hugged Makoto’s body tight.

“You’re doing good, Makoto,” he whispered. “You’re doing very good.” 

x

_Makoto?_

“Makoto?”

Green eyes jerked up from his phone, where he’d been staring at the messages Sousuke had been sending with no reply. He hadn’t said a word for four days now, unable to find the desire to carry on small talk in the state he’d been in. Nagisa stood with his hands on his hips, face looking puzzled.

“You okay?” he asked slowly.

Makoto’s lips raised into a big smile and he whispered, “Yeah.”

Thanks to Seijuro, and all of his friends, he was doing okay. The sadness always came in waves, the anniversary always being the hardest time, but Makoto had never recovered so quickly or felt better at the end of it than he did now. Seijuro had been right when he said he should talk to someone. Makoto had never guessed it would help this much; but then again, Seijuro was a special kind of magical existence that could calm all of Makoto’s fears and wipe away all his tears. He shut his eyes and beamed wide at Nagisa.

“Are you ready?” the other asked excitedly as he bounded forward and took up Makoto’s free hand. “It’s your first time, how do you feel?”

“Nervous,” hushed Makoto, but as soon as Nagisa placed a warm hand on his bare shoulder, some of the butterflies fluttered away. Still, he felt exposed. Nagisa helped him stand, smiling up at him with glittery eyes.

Kisumi and Nagisa had picked out this lingerie for him to wear specifically on the night he would do his first dance on the pole. It was a black strappy set, triangles around his nipples, leading down across his abdomen in patterns and down to his crotch, like a one-piece body suit. He wore black lace panties that rode up nearly into his crack, and on his feet were black, faux leather stilettos. Nagisa motioned him to bend down, the kiss of red lipstick he left on Makoto’s cheek completing the whole look.

“Now go get ‘em, tiger,” Nagisa said with a big grin and slap to Makoto’s rear. Makoto slowly made his way out of the changing room, feeling far too exposed, but the moment Seijuro saw him, everything melted away.

“My god,” hushed the redhead, the two of them hidden from view as he stood and stepped forward. His hands reached out to grab at Makoto’s elbows, and he smiled down at the brunet.

“Are you ready for this? You don’t have to-“

Makoto looked up and smiled, genuine happiness thrumming in his bones. “I want to do this,” he said softly, nodding. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Seijuro’s cheek, just like Nagisa had done.

“You’ll be watching?”

“The whole thing,” Seijuro promised. “You’ll knock them all dead.”

Makoto giggled and nodded, turning to see Kisumi grinning and waving him back to the entrance of the stage. From the main part of the club, he heard the DJ announce him.

He had never felt so empowered and terrified at the same time. By the time his one song was over, he wanted to do it again. He walked off, barely able to contain himself. Nagisa was crying, and Kisumi was bouncing on his feet.

“Gorgeous! Makoto, you can dance!” Makoto flushed and grinned wide.

“Makoto, you have to do it again,” Nagisa begged with tears in his eyes, grasping at Makoto’s hands.

“Yeah,” whispered Makoto happily, “I will.” 

x

The walk to the aquatic center was calming. Makoto had asked Seijuro to help him start working out again with swimming. Seijuro seemed happy just to do whatever Makoto wanted to.

The dark thundercloud that was Sousuke sitting outside the center moping wasn’t what Makoto had expected, however. He froze and his hand instantly flew to Seijuro’s, his support for everything.

The redhead just sighed at the sight and asked loudly, “What are you doing here? We’re closed.”

Sousuke jumped up, ignoring Seijuro as he bolted towards Makoto instead. “Are you okay?” he fretted as he raised his hands like he might cover Makoto’s cheeks with his hands, but not actually reaching for him, his hands awkwardly raised like he was afraid to touch the other man. “I didn’t hear from you for days and I was so worried-!”

Makoto flushed red. “I’m fine, I promise! I was just having a rough few days...”

Sousuke blinked and slowly lowered his hands. “I missed you,” he whispered, catching Makoto off-guard, but as soon as the words hit him, he laughed in disbelief, eyes wide like he was waiting for the punch line. When it never came, Sousuke staring back at him with mirrored eyes, Makoto fell silent. His lips shifted down into a confused frown. Why would Sousuke miss him?

Finally Seijuro, either tired of being ignored or standing outside, said, “Why don’t you just come in.” He led Makoto away by the hand, his grip tightening, and Makoto hurried to catch up. Sousuke turned, bewildered and a little jealous, and scurried after the brunet.

Seijuro left them alone for a moment to go switch on the lights. Makoto fiddled nervously with his hands and shuffled on his feet.

“How long have you know Mikoshiba?” Sousuke asked bitterly, but Makoto was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice the tone.

“Umm? Oh-! A few years? I guess?” It was hard to remember, when Makoto felt like they’d known each other for ages.

Sousuke frowned at Makoto, the other taking it towards himself and diverting his eyes down, pursing his lips.

“He’s really nice to me, more than I deserve,” Makoto whispered.

“What does that mean?” asked Sousuke blatantly, his face twisting up at the way Makoto talked about himself, but Makoto didn’t see it that way.

He pulled up his walls and defensively chose to disengage from the conversation. Sousuke, however, had more to say.

He stepped closer to Makoto, a dark shadow over him. With a hint of desperation, he said, “I can be nice to you, too. Well, I want to... if you want me to.”

Makoto frowned. What did that mean? Of course he wanted Sousuke to be nice to him, but it’s not like he had to be...

“What I want to say is... how can I get your attention like Mikoshiba does?” Makoto turned his head up, blinking in confusion.

“Cause I’m really sorry about what happened before and I want us to be... I want it to be like it was. No, better. I want to treat you nice like Mikoshiba does.”

Makoto’s face was a blank slate. “Why?” he asked, clueless. 

“Because I... I like you?”

Makoto’s eyebrow twitched. He let out a short, awkward laugh. “Okay...” He didn’t know what to say.

“...Okay...?” asked Sousuke quietly, confusion making his own brows pinch together too. He jerked his hand out towards Makoto and tried to take his hand. The brunet jumped away, another awkward laugh.

“What are you doing?”

“You said okay,” Sousuke asked in confusion. “I wanted to... hold your hand like he does...” His words dropped slowly into barely a whisper, and Makoto’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“Sousuke, why are you suddenly fixated on me?” It was hard to hide the tone of fear that laced his words. The last time someone had zeroed in on him like this... what did Sousuke want?

“What do you...? I missed you! I made a mistake in letting you go and I- I want you back-!”

Silence fell on them like a dumbbell. Makoto’s heart was jumping out of his chest, but in the back of his mind was a voice that whispered, _You’re not worth it. He’ll leave again. What would he even see in someone like you? He’ll be gone as soon as he finds out there’s nothing good about you._

“Sousuke,” Makoto choked out, the air crackling at the sound of his voice. Aqua eyes were trained completely on him. “You’re just confused.”

Sousuke looked like he’d been shot in the foot.

“I mean, you just got out of a really long relationship- I think you’re just-“

“I’m not!” Sousuke yelled, and Makoto shrunk back, eyes wide.

“I’m not,” Sousuke tried again, softer, reaching again for Makoto only for his hands to fall away again with nothing to hold on to. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

“It’s okay,” choked Makoto. Still, his hands trembled softly.

“What happened was in the past,” whispered Makoto, clutching at his shirt. “It’s okay to let it go.”

“It’s the only thing I have to tie me to you,” Sousuke spoke desperately.

“Why do I matter so much?” Makoto looked up and laughed, but it was also a very serious question that he really needed an answer to. The laughter felt stiff and like the only thing Makoto could do to desperately break the tension.

“Because... you... I like you...” Sousuke words slowly faded out again, like he was beginning to realize Makoto wasn’t getting it. “What should I do to make you understand?” he murmured to himself as he clenched his fists by his side. Makoto stared at him blankly, still caught on the confession.

What was there to really like about Makoto? Most days, he felt like a hollow shell. He’d been stripped of every unique and wonderful characteristic and most days it was hard enough to just pretend to be someone with something interesting to contribute. It was something that kept him up some nights. It was miracle enough that Seijuro had decided to stick by his side, but anything beyond that seemed impossible now for Makoto. Finding someone to love him... seemed an unobtainable goal.

The longer Makoto’s silence stretched, the more fidgety Sousuke became, and finally he turned back to the front door and gave a stiff nod.

“If it’s okay, I’d like to keep texting, and see you more often...”

Makoto was tired of asking why, so he just gave a small nod. He listened as Sousuke’s footsteps retreated and the door shut behind him. More numb, he walked forward to the locker room on stiff legs. His shadow the only thing giving him away, Makoto passed the office and found Seijuro standing quietly, head down and listening. He looked lost in thought.

“Sei,” whispered Makoto. He’d probably heard it all. He expected a kind smile, but when Seijuro looked up, his eyes looked sad. Makoto gave him a shaky smile instead.

“Shall we go swim?” Seijuro asked finally as his lips slowly raised into the smile Makoto knew and loved. He nodded eagerly, but in the back of his mind, Sousuke’s words still weighed heavily.

What could he have meant when he said he liked Makoto? It seemed a puzzle to Makoto... Makoto had spent so long back then trying to convince Sousuke to like him that it seemed impossible before, and extremely improbable now. Seijuro just followed silently behind him, his own mind turning with too many thoughts.

 _Makoto, is that really how you see yourself?_

x

With the Olympics behind them, and everyone polishing their medals and trophies at home, there was a lower level of stress amongst the male swimmers of the Japanese swim team. But Haru didn’t miss that as the stress dissipated, so did the camaraderie between the swimmers. This didn’t bother Haru, as he preferred solitude and hated trying to force friendship, but with everything that had happened with Sousuke getting kicked off the team and the constant feeling that even his strongest friendships were showing cracks, it seemed that Rin was starting to feel a little desperate to maintain whatever he could.

This manifested one night as everyone was in the locker room after a day of practice, and Rin turned to all of their fellow swimmers and declared, “We should all go drinking tonight.”

Haru would have preferred nothing more than to just go home and sink into a warm bath, but as everyone enthusiastically agreed, and Rin looked so hopefully at Haru, he couldn’t possibly turn the invite down. Reluctantly, and with a sigh, he nodded his head.

“Perfect!” grinned Rin, turning back to the others. “I know just the place! I’ll text you all the address and we can meet up around 12 tonight.”

With a puffed-out chest and way too much pride, Rin grabbed his bag and headed out. Haru sighed again and followed quietly behind the redhead. When they were far enough away from the others, Haru called Rin’s name. Red eyes looked back over his shoulder, and Rin flashed sharp teeth. He slowed to let Haru catch up.

“What was that for?” frowned the other.

Rin reached out his arm and wrapped it around Haru’s waist, snuggling against his side, face into the other’s neck. As much as he huffed and puffed, Haru couldn’t help but give a teeny little smile as he let Rin come closer and show affection. Their relationship had almost naturally progressed to this point, but Rin had been the one to make it official after the games, with the sweetest little proposal that had almost given Haru heartburn.

“Haru,” the other purred, and Haru melted in two seconds flat. He turned his face away as his cheeks burned red.

“Really, what’s come over you lately?” He tried to sound like he disliked it.

But Rin had known Haru for too many years, and so he smiled proudly into Haru’s neck. “I thought it’d be fun to go see Makoto with all of the guys. Ever since Sou left, it’s not the same, and I thought this would help morale.”

Haru sighed again, but he didn’t say anything else. Honestly, Rin was probably right, and Haru wouldn’t complain about a chance to see how Makoto was faring. When Rin kissed his cheek, all was forgiven.

“Will you wear that thing I like tonight?” whispered Rin suggestively as he opened the door to their apartment.

Haru stepped inside after the redhead and shut the door behind him, finally showing a little smile.  
“Only if you wear that cologne I like.”

“Deal,” grinned Rin as he pulled Haru against himself to give him a sweet kiss. Eyes fluttered shut and Haru let Rin have his complete attention for a moment, before wriggling out of the redhead’s grasp. Rin let him go with a little noise of sadness, but he pulled out his phone to text the address of Makoto’s club to the Japanese Olympic swim team and said nothing else. Haru slipped his shoes off and moved into their now-shared bedroom to go find the pretty lace panties Rin had requested. He took his time in the shower, Rin joining him for a bit, and by the time they’d eaten and dressed again, it was time to head out. Rin pulled Haru in for one more kiss in the privacy of their home before they went out into the real world.

“Don’t leave me for some hot stripper tonight, Nanase,” Rin joked.

Haru took a deep inhale of the cologne he had requested, and shook his head softly. “Never dream of it, Matsuoka.”

With one more kiss, they headed out to the club.

The music was already pounding through the front door, and a small group of bachelor men stood waiting outside. Haru frowned as he counted one more than made up their team. With an arm slung around his shoulder, Sousuke turned slowly when the newcomers were greeted. Quiet electricity passed between Rin and the other.

“Matsumoto invited me,” Sousuke said quietly with a short shrug, like he couldn’t be bothered to care too much. Haru pursed his lips and wondered if Sousuke knew that Makoto was working here again. He looked maybe too relaxed, but it was hard to tell. The half-Japanese man named Matsumoto was grinning from ear to ear, his hair hanging loose over his face. He was handsome, but too happy for Haru’s tastes. The blond hair and blue eyes always threw Haru off, too.

Rin glanced at Haru, but he finally just released a sigh and shrugged. What was he going to do, tell Sousuke to go home? As a group, they turned to the bouncer at the door and made their way inside.

A tiny little waiter in small black shorts and a white button up flitted up to the group and grinned at the bunch of handsome men. With rosy cheeks, he led them to a big booth in the corner, Haru trying not to look too disappointed as he looked around and didn’t spot Makoto. He gave Rin a pat on the arm and broke off to wander to the bar, Rei smiling when he saw the other.

“Been a while. Drink?”

Haru sat down on a bar stool and leaned forward heavily. “Hey,” he said with a nod, staring up at the wall behind the bar, trying to decide if he needed alcohol to get through the night. “Is Makoto not working tonight?” he asked instead.

“Oh,” said Rei, which caused Haru’s blue eyes to snap back down to him, eyebrow raised. Rei shifted on his feet and wiped his hands on his apron. “Yeah, he’ll be out later,” he said after a moment, smiling. Haru was silent for a beat, before shrugging off Rei’s first reaction. Maybe he was tired.

When Rei had finished serving another customer and the bar cleared, he walked over and leaned across towards Haru. “Was that Sousuke I saw walking in with you?”

Haru nodded, sighing again. “Someone else invited him. Well, I guess you’ve heard about it...”

Rei nodded, inclining his head to the side then and tipping his chin up to point. Haru glanced over his shoulder and was surprised to find Seijuro standing behind him. The man was smiling, but there was no doubt that he knew about the group Haru had come with. Still, he didn’t seem too worried.

“Seijuro is Makoto’s new bodyguard,” Rei said with a cheeky grin, and Haru turned to the other man.

“Well, you know, it’s hard to let him out of my sight sometimes,” Seijuro said with a crooked grin as he scratched at his jaw, laughing softly. Haru narrowed his eyes, wondering... The short time that it had taken those two to get so attached to each other made it seem like there had to be other things in play.

“Don’t start anything with Sousuke,” Haru said with a wary look in his eyes, but Seijuro raised his arms as a sign of peace. “Well, I’m more worried about him,” mumbled Haru in response. He gave Seijuro a small smile. He couldn’t fault the man for being there for Makoto like he had been; he was good to the brunet, and he needed it, now more than ever.

“Any sight of Kai?”

Seijuro crossed his arms over his buff chest and said, tone serious, “Not a chance.”

Haru patted Seijuro’s arm, lingering for a moment. “Well, it might be awkward, but do you wanna come sit with us?”

Seijuro glanced back, turning again with a wicked little grin. “Sure,” he said, cocky.

Together, they strutted to the booth, and Haru slid in next to his boyfriend, introducing Seijuro to everyone else. He didn’t miss the look Sousuke gave the other, like he couldn’t figure out why the redhead was even here. He sat next to Matsumoto, looking fidgety. A few drinks later, though, and he was laughing along with everyone else, barely paying Seijuro any mind. Seijuro stood and made his way back to the bar, and about ten minutes later, Sousuke stood, saying he was going to get another drink.

Seijuro saw him coming, and he leaned back on the bar with a cocky smile, golden eyes trained on Sousuke. The other man ignored him as he ordered his drink, Rei taking his order. When he turned to mix the drink, the two were left in silence.

“What are you doing here?”

Seijuro smiled at the angry tone, like Seijuro’s very existence annoyed the man, giving Sousuke a shrug. “I’m just here to support my best friend.”

Sousuke’s lips twisted down in confusion at that, and he sat down on the stool in front of him.

“Do you have a problem with my relationship with Makoto?” Seijuro asked calmly. Sousuke’s face turned a little red, the wheels in his head turning as he took Seijuro’s question for a change in subject; Seijuro hated to say he was really enjoying this.

“No,” Sousuke bit off. “Just don’t confuse him.”

“Why would he be confused?” Seijuro asked, knowing the answer but also curious to hear Sousuke say it. Aqua eyes flicked up towards his face.

“I see how you are with him.” And that was all Sousuke said. Seijuro just gave a laugh and wrapped his arm around Sousuke’s shoulder, grinning.

Into his ear, he whispered, “Your jealousy is showing.”

Sousuke’s head whipped around, but his expression showed that Seijuro’s words had hit the mark. Seijuro grinned at him and patted his back as he pulled away.

“I get it. Makoto is absolutely perfect.”

Sousuke frowned again, but he didn’t disagree. He took a long sip of the glass that Rei slid to him.

“Why are you here again?” he asked slowly, his brain going back to their first topic, nothing connecting in his head. Seijuro enjoyed how stupid the man could be, all brawn and no brain. As far as he knew, Sousuke didn’t know that Makoto was working here again.

“Why don’t you come with me for a sec,” Seijuro said as he looked over at the stage, grin too wide to be up to any good. “I’ve got something for you to see.”

Sousuke gave him a dirty look, but as he glanced back at the table he’d come from, he picked up his glass and followed Seijuro silently to one of the tables near the stage. Haru’s eyes followed them, curious and a little confused. The music changed and Nagisa danced onto the stage in a black bralette and matching black bootie shorts. Seijuro felt Sousuke shift in his seat beside the other.

“What is this?” he hushed angrily at Seijuro, but the redhead just waved him to be quiet as the lights in the front of the club dimmed and Nagisa held up a microphone to his glossy lips.

“Hey, boys~” he sang, and the audience enthusiastically crooned back at him. He laughed, grabbing onto the pole as he kept talking. “I know you all have been waiting oh so long, so I’m here to warm you up before the real treasure comes out here to knock you all off your feet.” Nagisa turned his back to the crowd, the pole against the left side of his chest, and he slid down, legs straight and spread a little, until his ass was sticking out, and just between his trim thighs, everyone could see the bulge in his shorts. Someone in the crowd hollered in excitement, and Seijuro giggled. He’d really started liking watching these shows, not even so much for the sexuality of it, but it was fascinating to watch because every dancer here was so _good_ at riling the audience up with what they did. The blond gave a butt wiggle to entice, the heels on his feet making his calves pop, and then he spun around and pressed his back to the pole, free hand up high against it, as he slowly began pumping his lithe little body up and down against the pole behind him. He did look really good, and Seijuro was sure Rei had his eyes glued on his boyfriend right now. Beside him, Sousuke looked uncomfortable, which only made it ten times better.

Nagisa was still talking into the mic, getting everyone excited for what was to come. Finally, with one final spin around the pole, he said in a low, sexy voice, “Well, are you all ready?”

With voracious applause and cheering following him off the stage, the lights and music changed again, and Seijuro turned so he could watch the stage and Sousuke’s face at the same time, chin in his hand and a big, eager grin on his face.

The lights dropped down all the way, and only the sound of heels softly clicking out onto the stage gave anyone a clue that something was about to go down. When the lights flashed back up, Seijuro couldn’t contain his giggle. Haru jumped out of his seat behind them, and Sousuke’s whole face went white, and Seijuro just sat there and grinned wide, enjoying it all.

On the stage, clinging to the pole, was Makoto, looking perfect and filled out again from all of Seijuro’s food. His thighs were thick again, his stomach flat. He stood on white stiletto heels, and on his head were fluffy white rabbit ears. But the thing that was making Sousuke now turn red was his outfit: a ruffled white crop top with a heart keyhole in the front, cute little white panties with ruffles that strung up and wrapped around his skinny waist, and ruffles along his hips. Makoto grabbed hold of the pole with two hands, stepping out and away from it, slowly walking around until he was in front of it, back to the audience as he waggled his fluffy little tail. He spun on his heels and dropped to a squat, ass out and on full display. The only thing covering any skin down there was the small strip of fabric that slipped down between his ass cheeks and the fluffy bunny tail resting at the top of the thong.

Sousuke let out a sound that couldn’t possibly be human, and Seijuro turned to him fully as his eyes went wide and his hands flew to grip at the table in front of him. His face was so flushed that his heart had to be pounding out of his chest. Seijuro smiled proudly and turned back to the stage, happy to see Sousuke so affected.

It wasn’t that he hated the man, really. He didn’t have much skin in the war between Rin and Sousuke, aside from his affection for Makoto. What he hated mostly was seeing how weakly Sousuke was fighting for Makoto. It was so obvious to everyone but the man himself that Sousuke had been head over heels for the brunet for a while, but this meek apologizing and begging Makoto to be his again made Seijuro want to pull his hair out. He knew maybe better than anyone that Sousuke held a special key to Makoto’s happiness, whether it ended in a rekindled friendship or something more. Either way, Sousuke could lift a big burden off of Makoto’s shoulders, but he wasn’t _starving_ for it. Not yet, anyways... No, if Sousuke wouldn’t step up a hundred percent, Seijuro would fight him off of Makoto until the day he died. It was either all or nothing in Seijuro’s eyes, and this was certainly not enough. Not yet.

Now, Sousuke’s eyes were glued to Makoto. He couldn’t keep himself from staring; the man on stage wasn’t the man he’d known before. Sousuke’s mind was a mess of screaming emotions. Had Makoto been this beautiful before? His body was a work of art. A lot of his muscle definition was gone, but that didn’t diminish anything. Makoto was at the same time so thick in some areas and so slim in others. In the heart-shaped hole in the top he wore, Sousuke could see two fat man titties, the shadow of them visible in the window, nipples hard through the thin fabric. The underwear he wore barely covered anything, but something about the little ruffles and the way the fabric wrapped up and around his trim waist was like a naughty tease. Makoto’s waist dipped softly in, his stomach smooth, his abs hiding or gone, but who cared when he looked so good in creamy skin and white. He walked around with such confidence on his heels, and Sousuke couldn’t even begin to describe what the shoes were doing for his ass and legs. He looked so tall, legs long and lean, and his ass was obscenely round, something Sousuke wanted to bury his hands in. The minute the thought came, Sousuke jerked back in shock, blinking. _What...?_ He slowly licked at his lips, mouth going dry. He could see Seijuro grinning from ear to ear beside him, but he could barely be mad at the man. _Damn... him..._

Makoto’s hands slid over the pole as he strode back around, as he slowly began dancing against it. He climbed up and curved his upper body away from it, dropping it down as he flipped upside down, chest arching out, one leg outstretched. He moved like he’d pole-danced all his life. Sousuke swallowed hard as Makoto came back down and ground his ass against the pole, hands up high, as his underwear stretched to their limits and Sousuke thought he might die. It wasn’t even five minutes in and Sousuke had to carefully slip his hands under the table and press a palm against his hot erection. He had to keep reminding himself to swallow and blink.

Whatever he’d felt towards Makoto; regret, longing, everything was multiplied in this moment, and Sousuke realized that the worst mistake he’d ever made in his life was letting this angel go. Sousuke was falling so deeply in love with Makoto; he wanted to touch him, to hide him away and claim all of him as his own. He clenched his fists; he abhorred that Seijuro had such a major role in Makoto’s life now. He hated that it couldn’t be him.

Makoto sank to his knees at the edge of the stage, sensually thrusting his hips as he slowly tore his top off. All Sousuke could see was creamy skin, gorgeous pectorals that were probably mostly fat, and probably so nice to squeeze, and thick thighs. Men clambered forward to stuff bills into Makoto’s panties, tugging at them as their hands slipped away, little peeks of forbidden skin. Makoto just beamed down at the hands that reached for him, and Sousuke had never been prouder and had never felt sicker. 

When it became all too much, he shot up out of his seat, his chair scraping loudly, and he rushed to the bathroom in the back. He shut the door of the stall behind him and tried to regulate his breathing, but his heart was in his throat and he could barely breathe. He clenched his hands. He was so absolutely in love with Makoto; he felt possessiveness like he never had before. He wanted Makoto, wanted him, wanted him so badly. He _needed_ Makoto. It was so all-consuming that he couldn’t think clearly. He rubbed his hand over his hard-on, blood rushing hot under his skin. He let out a low groan as he felt some relief from rubbing, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t. Why couldn’t he remember what Makoto’s skin felt like, what his laugh sounded like, what it sounded like when Makoto called his name? He hated that he couldn’t recall at all how it felt to hold Makoto in his arms. Why had he convinced himself leaving Makoto was a good idea? Oh, he hated himself for it.

He stumbled out of the stall and washed his face in icy water. Out in the hall, he paused and looked around. To his left was the club, and to his right had to be the back entrance off the stage and the changing rooms. The song Makoto had been dancing to was still playing. Slowly, Sousuke turned to the right and stalked deeper into the back of the club. There were two doors marked Employees Only, and he stopped there. He just wanted Makoto to know...

To know what? That he was sorry? That he loved Makoto? Needed him back? Would do absolutely anything... He was so lost in the turmoil of his thoughts that he never noticed the music changing, never heard the soft clack of heels coming towards the door right in front of him. It opened and suddenly Makoto was standing right in front of Sousuke. The door shut softly behind them and silence dropped around them.

“Sou- suke...?” Makoto croaked out after way too long, like it had taken him this long to understand what was even happening. Sousuke’s ears were ringing. “What are you... doing here?”

“Makoto,” said Sousuke in a broken voice, his face wet with tears he hadn’t known he was crying. It was too dark for Makoto to see, thankfully, but Sousuke couldn’t stop them. What was he supposed to say? So many words rushed through his mind. How sorry he was, that he should beg Makoto to take him back, that he loved Makoto so much... Nothing came out of his mouth.

Makoto wrapped his arms in shame around his torso suddenly, and Sousuke wanted to beg him not to hide. Even now, he seemed to glow. Thick fingers reached out for Makoto, coasting just over a baby soft waist, and Sousuke felt like an electric current had jolted through his arm. Makoto jerked away and Sousuke pulled his hand back. The brunet’s lips pressed tightly together, and Sousuke couldn’t tell if the man was going to cry or yell.

“You were... beautiful,” Sousuke choked out, the words seeming to never be enough. Makoto took another step back, back pressed against the door behind him, shaking now. Sousuke wanted to wrap him up in his arms, but he was way too aware of the strain at the front of his jeans. He could smell Makoto now, a little hint of sweat mixed with something sweet, something uniquely Makoto. He’d forgotten that Makoto had always smelled so good. “Your dancing... when did you start doing that?”

“Just a few weeks ago. I... enjoy it.” Makoto frowned and then shook his head. “You can’t be back here, Sousuke.”

“I miss you!” Sousuke blurted out. His heart ached to tell Makoto everything he felt, and he opened his mouth to do so, but Makoto’s head jerked to the right and slowly Sousuke’s turned to look as well. At the end of the hall, blocking the light, stood Seijuro. All it took was a little lift of one hand and Makoto ran to his side. Arms wrapped around his slim body and Sousuke stared in disbelief at that glorious ass and the way Makoto’s little bunny tail quivered as he trembled. He swallowed hard. “Makoto, I’m sorry-!”

Seeing Seijuro’s arms around Makoto made Sousuke’s whole world burn red, his mouth going sour. Slowly, Makoto turned back to Sousuke, giving a shaky, scared smile. It hurt Sousuke to see.

“I’m sorry...” Makoto’s return apology hurt more than Sousuke could articulate. He clenched at the front of his shirt as he watched Makoto with round eyes, watching his pretty little lips move over words that were hard to swallow. “You just scared me. I didn’t expect to see you here... I didn’t want you to see me... like this...”

Sousuke took a step forward, reaching out again, but his hands fell away empty once again. Words rushed out without thought, the need to say anything, the absolute right thing, weighing Sousuke down like a dump truck. “Makoto, I’ve missed chatting with you. I didn’t even know you worked here, I swear. But god, it was so good to see you. Please, I want to see you again sometime. Can we talk?”

Makoto raised a shaky hand and Sousuke went silent. Had he said too much? But his heart soared when Makoto gave him a little smile.

“I’m sorry, I just need some time...”

“Yes-! No...” Sousuke frowned and shook his head. He wanted to give Makoto what he needed but they’d already spent so much time not talking or seeing each other. “Makoto, please, I miss you so much, and I-“

Seijuro raised his hand now, his other hand pulling Makoto back to his chest and holding him there. “Slow your roll,” he said in a low voice, his eyes flashing dangerously. Sousuke stared at Seijuro’s big hand on Makoto’s bare skin, his thumb caressing to soothe the brunet. He wanted it to be him, hated that it wasn’t him. Why couldn’t it be him?? “Makoto says he needs some time. Don’t rush him. Maybe you should cool your head and take some time, too.”

Sousuke gritted his teeth, but he didn’t say anything. As the tension between the two men rose, Makoto slowly pushed away from Seijuro’s chest and turned to Sousuke. He stepped towards him, reaching out to take one of Sousuke’s hands in his own. Aqua eyes snapped immediately to Makoto’s green, so earnest and full of overwhelming emotion. God, he’d been such a fool to let this perfect, sweet angel go. What a fool he’d been...

“I’ve missed you too, but you have to give me some time... I can’t... we’re not the same anymore. We can’t go back to what we had before... But maybe, if I had some time, we could... be friends...”

 _Friends._ It was a punch in the gut. He had to give Makoto time? So much time had already been wasted. But he couldn’t say anything but, “Okay,” all the while knowing now that he would fight until the day he died to win back this man. He’d beg, get down on his knees if he had to. His pride meant nothing to him anymore.

“I love you, Makoto,” Sousuke said, pulling at the brunet’s hand, but the other stayed firmly rooted.

Makoto’s smile and eyes went so sad as he whispered, “You’re confused...” 

“I’m not!”

But Makoto shook his head and pulled away, stepping past Sousuke to the locker room behind him. All that was left was Seijuro’s eyes carefully watching Sousuke.

“Don’t confuse Makoto,” he said strongly, voice low and threatening. “Whatever you think you’re feeling, just remember you were engaged only a few weeks ago. Take some time and figure out your intentions before you drag that precious man down with you.”

“She meant nothing to me,” Sousuke hissed. “Not like he does! I was an idiot to let him go...”

“Yeah, you were,” Seijuro said calmly, and Sousuke’s eyes shot up to him, wide and shocked. Had the man just agreed with him? But Seijuro wasn’t smiling. No, his eyes were cold. “A lot of shit happened to that perfect angel because of you, and I hope you take some goddamn time to think about that, really think about it. You should be glad Makoto is kind enough to even speak to you. If it was up to me, you’d never get to see his face again, not like this. But don’t you... ever... take Makoto’s kindness and trample over it with your dirty little feet.”

Seijuro took a deep breath and ended with, “I suggest you take some serious time.”

Sousuke clenched his fists. “I fucking love him. You can’t speak to our history like you know. I’ll repay for my sins ten times over, but I love him. You can’t lock him away from the world. Makoto is his own person.”

Seijuro’s lips pursed tight. “Then listen to what Makoto says and figure out how to repay Makoto for all the shit he went through because of you, because you’re never going to be a part of his life if you don’t. Just a word of friendly advice, which I really shouldn’t have to give.”

Sousuke slowly lowered his head and stalked out past the redhead. He couldn’t stand it any longer. He knew, he knew Seijuro was right, but his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. Seijuro was a part of Makoto’s life and he wasn’t, and that made Sousuke _livid_.

He barely even recognized Haru as he rushed past him, headed to the door to leave, feeling too overwhelmed to stay. Blue eyes blinked at him in shock as he rushed past, but Sousuke couldn’t be bothered. Makoto filled his whole head space.

Haru turned to Seijuro, so many questions, but Seijuro just gave him a soft smile. “You want me to tell him you’re here?”

Haru clenched his fist. “Yeah, I’d like to talk to Makoto.”

Seijuro smiled again, waved his hand to follow him. “Come on.”

Haru followed Seijuro to the locker room in silence. When the door opened, Makoto was wrapped in a robe, and his green eyes flitted up, wet. When he saw Haru, he wiped his face in a rush and stood on shaky knees. He stumbled forward and Haru caught the other against his chest.

“You idiot,” he whispered fiercely to the brunet. Makoto gave a shaky sob in response. Haru hugged him tighter. “You were way too good at that. I thought I told you that you shouldn’t ever dance on that stage.”

“I love it, Haru! It’s been so fun...”

Haru sighed roughly. “You’re going to lead so many men into sin, and god, as if you’re not already enough of a magnet for terrible men...”

“Well, I’ve got Sei...”

Haru looked over Makoto’s shoulder at the tall redhead. He let out a deep sigh.

“You’re an idiot, Makoto,” he said wearily. Makoto pulled back and beamed wide through his tear-streaked face. “Don’t fall for stupid men anymore. Find someone good.” Blue eyes shifted for a moment to Seijuro, who gave an odd little smile back. Haru looked back at Makoto and wondered... Wouldn’t that just be the best for Makoto, but he doubted Makoto saw Seijuro that way at all. He was so idiotically foolish... and still Haru loved him so foolishly much despite it.

He sighed again, but he smiled at Makoto. He just wanted his best friend to be happy.

First Makoto had to find happiness for himself, and then maybe one day he’d find someone to truly love him for who he was. Whoever got Makoto in the end would be blessed beyond measure.


	19. Protect

Makoto had gotten quiet again, but it was a different kind of silence than before. He was still smiling, but there was a sadness in his eyes that hurt Seijuro to see. Once in a while, Makoto would get a text, and he’d read it, but he rarely ever responded.

One day, as Makoto sat with his feet up on a kitchen chair, in his pajamas, Seijuro cooking breakfast, the redhead walked over and gently combed Makoto’s bangs out of his face. His hand slipped down and he tipped up Makoto’s face to look at him. He’d been looking so much better lately, had been swimming more and more with Seijuro to get some exercise. Seijuro was overjoyed with his progress, but he hated that sad smile Makoto showed him now.

“You know you can tell me anything.”

Makoto was quiet, but he earnestly met Seijuro’s gaze. Finally, he gave a small nod, a smile.

Still, it wasn’t until a few nights later when they were cuddled on the couch watching an old movie that Makoto said anything about what he’d been worrying about.

“Do you think I’m attractive?”

Seijuro swiveled his head around and blinked at Makoto, confused and shocked by the question. Makoto’s smile was so sad as he stared down at his folded hands that it broke Seijuro’s heart.

“Of course, baby doll,” he replied earnestly, but Makoto frowned. “Darling, what’s wrong?” he asked softly as he cupped Makoto’s cheek.

When Makoto looked up, there were tears in his eyes, and Seijuro reached over to shut off the TV, bathing them in just the quiet sounds of the apartment.

“When I look in the mirror and I see my face, I think that I’m so ugly.” Makoto’s lips warbled and his sad smile broke as he let out a quiet sob. “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt... cute... Have I ever been cute?”

Seijuro took Makoto’s hands in his own and cooed at him quietly. “Makoto, I can’t even begin to tell you how wrong you are. You’re beautiful.”

“You have to say that-“ choked out the brunet with twisted lips. The words looked like they tasted bitter coming out, but he just shut his eyes and shook his head.

“Maybe that’s true, but I also get to say it...” Seijuro whispered quietly. He cupped Makoto’s face and lovingly stroked his cheeks. He was always so fascinated by Makoto; even when he cried like this, he was so pretty. How could he make Makoto see...

“I don’t know how anyone who dated me ever saw me... Was I convenient? There to serve a purpose?” Hands clenched up to his heart and Makoto curled up against his knees. “Am I even lovable?”

It broke Seijuro’s heart that Makoto couldn’t see it. He hated all the men who’d abused Makoto and whittled him down to this. Makoto, who was such a sensitive soul, had absorbed so many bad things and he had no clue how to rid himself of the stains they’d left on him. Seijuro wondered if even he could help with that, but god, he had to try.

“I can’t speak for those jerks, but I can tell you with absolute certainty that you would be such a catch for anyone, and those buttholes didn’t deserve even a piece of you.” _Even I would be beyond honored..._ Seijuro gave the other a sweet smile.

“I just... can’t see it. When you or Nagisa say I look good... I can’t see it. Especially now, when my body is...”

Seijuro pulled himself off the couch, Makoto’s pretty green eyes snapping up to him in panic. Seijuro held his hand out with a smile. “Come here, and let me show you something.”

Just inside the bedroom door, there was a full-length mirror, and Seijuro sat down on the floor in front of it. He patted at his legs, reaching for Makoto to sit on his lap. The other sank down like he was bone-tired. In the reflection of the mirror, Seijuro watched Makoto. He slipped his hand over Makoto’s cheek and under his chin, cupping it lovingly as he lifted Makoto’s face.

“Let me show you some things,” Seijuro murmured into Makoto’s ear. A soft blush spread over pale cheeks. Seijuro combed Makoto’s hair back and kissed his temple, smiling. With his lips to the side of Makoto’s face, but eyes turned and trained on their reflection, Seijuro began.

“Your hair is soft and such a pretty color. It’s pretty when it’s up and you look so handsome when you wear it down.” Hands travelled down chunky cheeks, and Seijuro husked, “Your eyes are the most gorgeous green, perfectly spaced apart, and your nose is adorable.” Seijuro pushed up Makoto’s glasses and smiled.

“You have these gorgeous cheekbones and a jawbone that could cut steel. Your ears are cute and round and your lips are so full and pink.” Fingers caressed over Makoto’s cheek and down his neck, sliding over his shoulder. “Your shoulders are slim, but your frame is definitely very manly. I saw photos of you in your hay day, but even now your frame is so pretty. You carry yourself so well.”

Seijuro’s hands slid down Makoto’s arms and cupped his hands, commenting on his long limbs and his pretty, soft hands. “Compared to mine, yours are gorgeous,” he whispered as he laid out Makoto’s hand atop his own upturned one. “So pretty and slender.”

Then Seijuro’s hands slid over and he wiggled them under Makoto’s shirt, lifting it as he went up, cupping next at Makoto’s chest. “This is a bit lewd, but your chest is so sexy,” Seijuro murmured lowly with a cheeky smile. He kissed Makoto’s neck as he squeezed Makoto’s soft pectorals. He gave a small hum of appreciation. “You’re so soft and I just wish I could touch you all the time. Sadly, some people are just stupid and can’t appreciate a good man titty,” he added at the end as a small joke.

Next, he travelled one of his hands down the soft, smooth expanse of Makoto’s stomach, holding his sweater up with the other. “And I adore this creamy belly. You’re so soft and smooth here, your skin so unbelievably soft.” Hands crept down to Makoto’s thighs. “Shall I keep going?”

Makoto was bright red, but he didn’t say a word. Seijuro smiled and kept going.

“These legs,” he murmured seductively. “When you dance, I can really see them, but you really have strong legs. They’re pale and lean and so soft.”

Seijuro’s hands climbed down and then back up, his hands slipping deeper between Makoto’s thighs. “And that ass,” he breathed, Makoto yelping aloud. The other man scrambled and grabbed Seijuro’s wrists, and the redhead smiled and laughed softly as Makoto scolded him with bright red cheeks.

“You’re beautiful, Makoto. You always have been, but you’re getting healthy, and you’re really starting to fill out again, and you’re so darn pretty.”

Makoto’s cheeks burned red, Seijuro nuzzling to a soft neck as he listened to Makoto’s heart beating fiercely.

“All I want to say is,” Seijuro murmured in conclusion, his eyes meeting Makoto’s eyes in the mirror, smiling, “that I think you’re beautiful, and don’t you ever measure yourself by how some good-for-nothing men decided to treat you. More than anything, you’re a wonderful person. You’re a priceless gift to me and and so many.”

Seijuro slid his fingers between Makoto’s as they sat in silence for a while. Makoto was staring into the mirror, desperate to see what the other saw.

More than just being beautiful, Makoto was kind and caring, sweet to everyone he knew, which was both his greatest attribute and also his greatest weakness. But he would not be who he was if he wasn’t that way.

“I have an idea,” Seijuro smiled, nodded. He turned Makoto to face him, tapping under his chin for him to lift his eyes up. “What would you say, gorgeous angel, to letting me take you out one night, showing you off?”

Makoto blinked up at Seijuro, and the other smiled bigger.

“Makoto, would you do me the great honor of going out on a date with me?”

Makoto’s cheeks flared bright red, but his lips turned up into a big smile as he gave Seijuro a firm nod. Seijuro proudly leaned back on his hands, Makoto sitting quietly, watching himself out of the corner of his eye, quietly examining himself, and Sei. Once in a while he touched a part of himself or reached for the mirror.

“Makoto,” Seijuro hushed sweetly, green eyes flitting back up to his face. “It’s true that you’re beautiful, but you are also kind, gentle, with a sweet soul. I know you feel things more deeply than others, and you love fiercely. More than how you look, your soul is beautiful. And that’s the most important of all.”

Makoto turned slowly back to the mirror, staring quietly for a long time.

“Okay,” he whispered quietly when he felt satisfied for now, leaning back against Seijuro’s chest again. “Okay,” he agreed softly. Seijuro had never felt so proud and happy. It was only a date, but if this could make Makoto see, could make him smile... Seijuro would do anything in the world to make Makoto smile.

He hoped Makoto would only smile more and more from now on.

x

_Sousuke tapped softly on the leather of the bar stool he sat on. The club was completely empty, and music played softly from somewhere he couldn’t identify. He couldn’t remember why he was here or what he was waiting for, but wait he did._

_He didn’t have to wait long. Soon enough the door before him opened and Makoto peeked his head out. When he saw Sousuke, he smiled wide. “Are you ready?” he whispered with a giggle, and Sousuke felt himself nod._

_The door softly squeaked open, and Makoto stepped out into the low-lit room. Sousuke gripped the edge of his seat tighter, his heart beginning to race in his chest. His eyes were glued to Makoto._

_The brunet smiled shyly at first, and then more confidently, slowly beginning to strut forward on long, pale legs. His heels clacked softly on the floor; he wore shiny black stilettos. Around his left thigh was a black, ruffled garter, and Sousuke’s teeth ached to sink into it and tug it off those gorgeous legs. Makoto wore a nearly sheer pair of black panties, with white ruffles along the bottom edge. His stomach stretched pale and soft, and then he had on a little black bralette, fabric sheer and soft, with white ruffles along the edges, black straps over his broad shoulders and around his back, with white ruffles along the outer edges of the straps, and a cross section of straps on his chest. He wore small ruffled sleeves and in his gorgeous brunet hair sat two fluffy black cat ears. As he walked, a fluffy tail with a white ribbon tied at the end swayed to and fro. Sousuke gave a small grunt, and he shifted in his seat, his pants getting uncomfortable._

_Makoto leaned closer and placed his hands on Sousuke’s knees, smiling seductively as he slid them up thick thighs, and he leaned towards the black-haired male’s face. Green eyes flicked down for a moment to Sousuke’s lap as he gave another groan, and Makoto smirked, licked his lips. Fuck, Sousuke was so incredibly aroused. He wanted to reach out, to touch those shoulders, those arms, slide down to hold pretty hands, but his hands just clung to the leather of his stool. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his eyes focused, but they wanted to wander, to take in everything at once._

_“Sousuke,” Makoto crooned, a shot to Sousuke’s groin. He grunted again, eyes jerking up to Makoto’s eyes._

_“Yes,” he whispered in a rough, gravely voice._

_Makoto leaned in closer, closer, his breath coasting over Sousuke’s trembling lips. If he leaned forward a little more, Sousuke could... “I’ve missed you, Sousuke.”_

_Makoto’s words made Sousuke freeze, as warmth expanded in his chest and he felt like crying. Why had he ever left this wonderful creature behind? Makoto had always been so extremely kind to him, and Sousuke had treated him so badly..._

_“I’m sorry,” he choked out, but Makoto softly shook his head and gave a little smile, one hand slipping up Sousuke’s chest. “You’ve apologized enough. Now just enjoy it.”_

_Full lips pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Sousuke’s lips, but before he could react, Makoto was pulling away and smiling like he knew just what a tease he was. With his hands on Sousuke’s legs, he dropped down into a wide squat, his underwear screaming to hold on to the things they needed to cover, and slowly he stood again, face so close to Sousuke’s crotch and up his chest as he rose again. Makoto gave him another smile when their lips came closer, but again he turned and spun away, this time taking a few steps away from Sousuke. His tail swayed over round butt cheeks. The panties he wore covered just enough of the top of his ass to not sink into his crack, the ruffles casting shadows over fat cheeks. His ass was a work of art, and when he bent forward in half, panties slipping further in, Sousuke nearly had a hemorrhage. Makoto grabbed the end of his tail and curled it up under one ass cheek, swaying his hips as he danced. One hand on his legs slid up as his upper half raised a bit, and then he dropped slowly into another squat. All Sousuke could see were the sharp heels of Makoto’s shoes and then his gorgeously round ass. The panties were just a tease at this point, hiding from Sousuke what he really wanted to see. Slowly Makoto rose, ass back as he straightened his legs, and then he stood up again, tall and beautiful. He swayed his hips as he turned again to Sousuke, smiling, his tail still in one hand. He pulled it against his chest, arms pushing as the breasts he didn’t really have formed soft mounds that pushed together, sheer fabric hiding hard, pink nipples._

_“Please come here,” Sousuke choked out. He couldn’t stand it anymore, the distance between them. Watching Makoto one time from afar without being able to touch him had been enough already. Sousuke ached to hold the man close to his body. With a soft nod and a sweet smile blooming, Makoto kicked off his shoes and ran to Sousuke, pressing between his legs and to his chest. Sousuke’s arms came up around the other and Makoto sank his face into Sousuke’s neck._

_“I’ve missed you so much,” Makoto whispered, his voice shaky. “I love you. I cried every night you were gone. You were so terribly mean to leave me.”_

_“I know,” whispered Sousuke as he felt the weight of his sins weigh down on him._

_“You made me see you with that horrible woman, when it could have been me.”_

_Sousuke nodded. It should have been Makoto. Makoto watching proudly from the sidelines, as the man he’d groomed won him gold and fame... wait, who was that again? Makoto’s body felt too warm, and he was still talking, but his tone was getting creepy. In a desperate effort to shut him up, Sousuke grabbed his chin and pulled him into a deep, messy kiss. Tongues swirled around each other and Makoto gave a heavy moan._

_“Please, don’t...” Sousuke gruffed, as Makoto dug his nails into Sousuke’s shoulders. The kiss was turning bitter. He pulled back with a gasp when it was too much._

_Makoto pulled back with a dark sneer, red lipstick smeared, his hair... long? In a voice too much like Ayame’s, he accused, “You could have won me fame and notoriety, Sousuke, but I guess you just weren’t_ good enough.”

With a snap, Sousuke bolted up out of his bed. His whole body tingled, and he gave a grunt as something wet slid against his skin. He lifted his covers; when was the last time he’d had a wet dream? Though the ending of that dream had assured he wasn’t hard anymore. He scratched at his skin; Ayame had gotten under it more than he’d ever cared to admit, but slowly things were becoming clear to Sousuke. That woman had played him like a fiddle, making Makoto out to be the person she actually was. Makoto, who had never done a wrong thing to Sousuke in his life, had been believed to be the bad guy in all of this. It turned Sousuke’s stomach sour.

What time was it? He picked up his phone, clicked on Makoto’s contact info. He hit the call button before he could think. The line rang four times before it was answered. Silence met him, only soft breathing the sign that someone was there on the other end. Sousuke imagined Makoto; was he happy that Sousuke had called, frustrated?

“Listen, Makoto, I’m so sorry about everything... Please give me another chance! I love you, I love you so much. I don’t want anyone else to have you; I need it to be me. ...I need you.” Sousuke paused to breathe, only soft breathing still coming from the other end. “Please, Makoto,” he begged, hands fisting into sullied underwear. The seconds dragged on as Makoto didn’t respond and Sousuke’s heart tore.

“Would you like me to tell Makoto you called?”

Sousuke’s heart dropped to the floor. He could hear the smug grin in that voice even now, and a fire ignited in his bones. “Seijuro,” he hissed. Why did Seijuro have Makoto’s phone, why was he answering it? Had Makoto seen who was calling and handed his phone off? Sousuke’s gut twisted. “Let me speak to him, please.”

A pause, and in the background, Makoto’s soft voice.

Seijuro laughed, so obviously enjoying this. “Makoto’s busy. I’ll tell him you called to apologize.”

“No, let me talk to him!” Seijuro’s smugness was so grating. Sousuke felt on the verge of tears; his need clawed at his chest. “Please,” he begged, desperate.

Seijuro gave a soft, long sigh. “Listen, Sousuke, I don’t have to give you this advice, but for Makoto’s well-being, I will. Stop apologizing with words and act like you’re sorry instead. Make it up to him. Grovel at his feet. Let him walk all over you and use you and then maybe you can think about asking Makoto to be yours. But don’t you _ever..._ think that a weak apology like that is going to be enough to get you _my Makoto.”_

Sousuke’s blood drained out, shame, anger, humiliation.

The final blow came when Seijuro said, stiffly, “I’ll tell him you called. Figure your shit out before you dump your problems on him again.”

The line clicked and Sousuke’s ears rang. He hated Seijuro, but the man wasn’t wrong, which made him even more hateful. Sousuke clenched his fists, sat in his shame and filth. And then finally he cried, a single tear slipping down his face.

The worst thing he’d ever done in his life was let Makoto go, but by god, he’d do anything he had to do to get him back, and then he’d never, ever let the man go.

x

The nights were getting cooler again, and Seijuro slung his jacket over Makoto’s shoulders, pulling the man to his side. The restaurant Seijuro had picked for their date was in a bigger part of the city, and they’d parked his car and were walking there. People milled past them, and Makoto turned to Seijuro.

“Seijuro...” he murmured, his voice nervous. “People will stare...”

Seijuro just turned and smiled at him. “So? Let them. I’ve got a gorgeous date tonight, and I’m going to show you off.”

Makoto’s cheeks burned red, and Seijuro grinned, taking a moment to look around. A few girls cast second looks, but it wasn’t because of their closeness. Did Makoto see how their eyes lingered on him? He had styled his hair back and he wore a well-fitted, black and white striped shirt, his jeans showing off his long legs. He was gorgeous, as he had always been, but every word Makoto had been told by those he’d trusted and loved weighed heavily on him. Kai had done a lot of damage, but Sousuke had started it all. Seijuro clenched his free hand when he remembered how the big idiot had no fucking clue what kind of open wound he’d left Makoto with. Seijuro had never told Makoto about Sousuke’s call; the man was becoming a nuisance. If he didn’t quickly figure out how to really apologize to Makoto, Seijuro would step in and cut the man off from Makoto’s life. Every apology the man gave added weight to the burden Makoto already carried; he was the type who blamed himself for everything, and his shoulders were starting to get tired. Seijuro hated it, but he couldn’t tell Makoto not to speak to the other man. No matter how much he wanted to shield Makoto from everything, he couldn’t lock up a grown man. Instead, he pulled Makoto closer and whispered, “Those girls over there are staring at you. Turn and smile at them; you’ll make their day.”

Green eyes turned in confusion, and a high pitched little cry went up when he made eye contact with the girls. He gave a sweet smile, a little wave, and they squealed. Confused, Makoto looked up at Seijuro, but the other just looked forward and grinned wide.

“They think you’re hot, Makoto,” he explained in a proud voice, glancing down when Makoto still looked confused. He smiled at the other and leaned down again to whisper in his ear. “I bet they’re wishing they could be on a date with you instead.”

Makoto’s cheeks flushed red, and he pressed his lips together, shaking his head. But when he looked back up at Seijuro, he gave a small smile. “Stop teasing me,” he whispered, but his voice wasn’t as shaky as before. Seijuro smiled.

“It’s just here,” Seijuro said as he pointed to a red brick building. Makoto’s eyes went insanely wide when he saw it.

“Seijuro, this place is-!”

Seijuro grinned wide, “I know it’s expensive, but it’s okay. You’re worth it.” He pulled Makoto a little tighter and then slipped his hand down his back and into Makoto’s palm. He intertwined their fingers and pulled Makoto gently along. “Don’t worry about it and just enjoy. Tonight, you’re my hot date and I’m showing you off.”

Makoto’s cheeks were red as a tomato. He was probably thinking that Seijuro’s words were misleading, but Seijuro didn’t think so. He adored Makoto, and even as someone like family to him, he was honored to be Makoto’s date for the evening. He knew what it meant to have a man like Makoto on his arm. He knew Makoto’s real worth, immeasurable as it was. He knew he was the one who was lucky to be here.

The restaurant inside didn’t look any less bougie. The hostess wore a pencil skirt and white button-up shirt, and Seijuro didn’t miss her blush when she turned away. He gripped Makoto’s hand tighter. Sometimes he felt way too possessive of the brunet; he smiled wryly.

The table she led them to was small, near a back corner, but the restaurant was full, and voices carried soft conversation across the room. Seijuro pulled out Makoto’s chair before sitting himself, and he already felt a few eyes turn to look. He smiled at Makoto, hand reaching across the table to caress a thumb over Makoto’s.

“Order whatever you want, sweetheart,” Seijuro said with a sweet smile. Makoto looked at the prices on the menu and balked up at Seijuro. “But-“ “Don’t worry about the price, and let me spoil you a little.”

Makoto slowly dropped his eyes back to the menu, and finally, in a shaky voice, he ordered. Seijuro added a bottle of wine to their meal, and Makoto gave a choked little cry. Seijuro soothed his thumb over Makoto’s hand again, taking it into his own now and holding it tenderly.

“Darling,” Seijuro crooned. “Let me treat you like you deserve to be treated.”

“This is too much...” Makoto protested, but Seijuro just smiled and shook his head.

“On the contrary, it’s not enough,” he whispered.

Makoto was fidgety all night; it wasn’t until Seijuro had made him drink two glasses of wine that he began to relax a little. He smiled at Seijuro now, laughed at his jokes without that tension in his voice. His face relaxed, and he was beautiful. Seijuro looked around proudly, catching a few eyes. This man with him was exclusively his for the evening. He wasn’t stupid enough to think it would ever happen again, so he’d milk it for all it was worth.

No, even if he were to fall in love with Makoto romantically, he would never be worth the man’s time. He doubted anyone really deserved Makoto, but Makoto deserved someone who could make him happy, and that’s all it came down to. No one deserved Makoto, but he deserved the best. Seijuro could try all he wanted, but he’d never be the best for Makoto, because as much as he could make Makoto smile, Makoto’s heart didn’t beat for him like it beat for someone else. Seijuro wasn’t stupid. He just wished Sousuke would stop being an idiot. If he could just do it right, Makoto would fall into his arms at the drop of a hat. Sousuke didn’t know how much power he held. But he was going about it all wrong because he didn’t know; well, Seijuro would never tell him the truth. Sousuke would have to pay penance and figure this one out on his own. And Makoto would have to learn to really love himself for who he was.

When Makoto claimed he couldn’t eat a bite more, and he’d drained his fourth glass of wine, Seijuro paid their bill and then stood to offer Makoto his hand. The brunet stumbled and Seijuro caught him, hand around his waist as he pulled the man against his side to steady him. He laughed softly as Makoto blushed, whispering that he was fine.

When they stepped outside, Makoto looked up, and Seijuro would never tell him, but his face looked sad for a moment as he turned towards the direction Seijuro’s car sat in. He was probably thinking their night was over; Seijuro’s heart soared. But instead, he tugged Makoto towards the opposite direction, bending down to whisper into his ear, “Oh, no, it’s not over yet. I haven’t had nearly enough time to show you off, so let’s go dancing.”

Makoto’s head whipped up and his eyes went wide, a sparkle to his pretty, green irises. Seijuro pressed a kiss to his forehead and tugged Makoto towards the main street again. He’d found a famous dance club online, with great reviews and a ridiculous cover charge, but if anywhere was the best place to show Makoto and his skills off, this was it.

The front of the building screamed its popularity in the cool crowd. It was a black brick building with a huge neon sign on the front. The door inside was painted a deep pink, and the bouncer wore a flashy multi-colored suit that shifted when he moved. Makoto stared at the long line to get in and then up at the big sign. He turned slowly to Seijuro, and whispered, “No.”

Seijuro actually paused this time, looking Makoto’s face over. He wouldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to. “What’s wrong?”

Makoto slowly turned his face away, his cheeks turning a deep, deep red, and Seijuro’s worries washed away. Makoto was just embarrassed.

“I want to dance with you,” said Seijuro softly as he leaned down to nuzzle his nose to Makoto’s soft hair. He always smelled so sweet. “Since you’ve started dancing at the club, I’ve been wanting to take you out dancing.”

Makoto turned his big eyes up to Seijuro in disbelief. It was like he was asking, “Who, me?” Seijuro gave a soft laugh and nuzzled his cheek.

“Won’t it be fun?” Seijuro said with a smile. Makoto stared at him for a long time.

“It’s expensive, isn’t it?” he murmured quietly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Seijuro responded easily.

“Will we see someone famous?” Makoto asked even more quietly, and Seijuro laughed at the glint of excitement in Makoto’s eyes.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Like Seijuro was twisting his arm, Makoto turned away and mumbled a slow, “Well, okay then...” Seijuro grinned and gripped Makoto’s hip a little tighter. He really was excited. They walked to the end of the line, which was moving fairly quickly by now. In no time, they were inside and trying to find a table to lounge at for a while. Seijuro went to go get them drinks when they’d found one. He was only gone for about fifteen minutes, but by the time he got back, Makoto was being flanked by two guys.

“Hey, you’re super cute,” one was saying, leaning on the table with a cocky grin. The other looked more genuine as he stepped closer to Makoto and rested a hand on the small of his back.

“Are you here with someone? Wanna dance?” asked the other with a sweet smile. Makoto blinked at both in wild confusion.

“Uhm...” he choked out. He was frantically looking around, but Seijuro was blocked from his view by the guy to Makoto’s left. He wasn’t sure yet if he should make his presence known. Maybe a little bit of flirting from strangers would do Makoto’s ego some good.

“Do you come here a lot? You look more like a cute country kid. Are we right? First night in the big city?”

“No, I- Uh, I live in Tokyo, too...”

“Ooh, really? College?”

“No... I’m sorry, I’m waiting for-“

“Just one dance?” asked the bolder guy with a wide grin. He took Makoto’s hand in his own, trying to pull Makoto to him, but the brunet planted his feet.

“I’m waiting for my boyfriend!” he finally yelled in desperation, Seijuro’s cue to slip up with their drinks.

“Excuse me,” he said to the two other men. “This cutie pie here is mine.”

Makoto turned beet red, but the other guys respectfully backed up. As they walked away, they mumbled to each other. “Of course he was taken.” “Cute guy like that...”

“Don’t just leave him by himself,” said one over his shoulder as they melded back into the crowd. Seijuro let out a short laugh and turned to Makoto.

“Sorry,” he said apologetically, but Makoto was blushing fiercely, his lips quivering on a nervous smile.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, Seijuro’s golden eyes watching him carefully. Makoto averted his eyes and covered his cheeks with his hands.

“I didn’t think anyone would just flirt with me like that-!” he said on a hiccuping laugh after a moment, his cheeks turning redder. He glanced at Seijuro in embarrassment, but Seijuro just smiled.

“I’m telling you, you’re way too cute.”

“Stop that,” whispered Makoto, highly embarrassed, but Seijuro just shrugged and pushed Makoto’s drink over to him.

Slowly, the music around them got louder, and the crowd began pressing in to the dance floor. Seijuro gauged how Makoto was feeling, but he’d caught sight of something, and had been staring at it for a while. When Seijuro asked him if he was ready to dance, it was like he was snapped out of a trance.

“Yes!” he practically yelled. He grabbed Seijuro’s hand and then stepped up shyly next to him. “Please,” he asked kindly, but Seijuro just laughed and pulled him into the crowd.

“Don’t let go of me,” he yelled over the music as he found a spot near the middle and turned around. He pulled Makoto right up against his chest and grinned wide. “Now show me what you can do.”

Makoto slowly began moving. He leaned against Seijuro and let his body sway to the rhythm of the EDM coming over the speakers. For how big he was, it took barely any time for the alcohol to run through his system, and soon he was leaning back a little and smiling up at Seijuro. He tested the waters with a hip roll, and when Seijuro grabbed his hips and nodded excitedly, he did it again. His arms came up around Seijuro’s neck and he started shaking his hips, dancing as much as he could in the crowded space. Seijuro watched his face, watched him close his eyes, mouth open a little as he mouthed the words of the song and let the music move him. When the song changed and a sexy one came on, Seijuro spun Makoto around and pulled his ass to his own hips. He leaned over his shoulder and sang in his ear. Makoto reached back and grabbed at the back of Seijuro’s neck, eyes closed again as he sang with the redhead. Nobody else mattered.

Halfway through the song, Seijuro’s eyes snapped open and he searched the crowd before them vigilantly. He felt eyes on them, and it was not a kind stare. It didn’t take him long to spot the man, and he really couldn’t help but give a crooked grin. Aqua eyes narrowed at it. A familiar redhead was standing next to the tall figure, talking animatedly as he pushed him back. Rin looked agitated, but Sousuke’s face was set and determined. He looked like he wanted to fight Seijuro. It made Seijuro’s heart race, in an exciting way. God, that big goof was such an idiot, and so easy to bait. Rin was not enjoying it nearly as much as Seijuro was. Haru walked up to Sousuke and smacked at his chest, saying something with a stern face, but when a blond guy came up and dropped an arm casually over Sousuke’s shoulders, it was all moot. Seijuro watched the blond lean in, eyes shifting to Makoto, following Sousuke’s line of sight. His face broke out in a big smile and he nodded enthusiastically. But unlike Sousuke, when he looked up and saw Seijuro, he just smiled bigger. He sized Seijuro up with a grin on his face; he wasn’t threatened. He waved Rin and Haru off and nodded towards Seijuro and Makoto; he pulled Sousuke into the crowd. So Makoto wouldn’t see them trying to make their way over, Seijuro spun him back around, circling arms around his hips and pulling him close. He nuzzled his nose into Makoto’s hair, smiling softly as he inhaled his calming scent.

“You look gorgeous, Makoto. I think I’m gonna have some competition.” Seijuro wasn’t even exclusively talking about the blond and the black-haired man heading their way. Two gorgeous girls had been eyeing Makoto up since nearly the beginning, and they were slowly building up the courage and making their way over to the pair. Makoto didn’t open his eyes or pause in his dancing until Seijuro greeted loudly, “Hello, ladies.”

Makoto’s head spun to the side, and his eyes went wide when he saw the two girls dancing in place a little and smiling up at them with hope in their eyes. He awkwardly turned his side to Seijuro and gave them a gorgeous but slightly confused smile. Still, the girls crooned and giggled shyly at the sight.

They didn’t say anything; you didn’t really need to in places like this. Seijuro stepped up to the girls, pushing Makoto gently with him, and even though he looked stiff and awkward, Makoto reached out a hand and rested it softly against the closest girl’s hip. She smiled sweetly at him and pressed herself closer, and Seijuro turned to the other girl, a light brunet, who gave him a coy smile. Seijuro puffed out his chest and grinned. This night was turning out to be just amazing.

While Makoto was awkward with men, he seemed almost too natural with the women. For him, there was absolutely nothing for him to hold back, because he wasn’t sexually interested in females and simply saw them as friends. He could let himself go and just have fun, without worrying about overstepping or making the wrong move. It was easy when the girls were this pretty and willing, too. 

Soon enough, the girl had her hands on Makoto’s chest, grinning wide as they moved their hips together. She pressed up against him and rolled her body, and he grinned at her like she was a treasure. Seijuro, though, another beast entirely, had his hand creeping inside the other girl’s tight skirt as she breathed heavy against his chest. She looked up at him with eyes that begged for more. Whether it was alcohol fueled or her true desire, she was ready to pull Seijuro off the dance floor and have her way with him, and he wouldn’t have complained about it if it wasn’t for Makoto. Still, he leaned down over her and whispered in her ear.

“Baby girl, you’re goddamn gorgeous, but I have to tell you that nothing’s gonna happen with us tonight. I’m with this cutie and I’ve got to keep all the weirdos off of him.” He pulled back and gave a wink; the girl’s cheeks rosed and she let out a sound somewhere between being highly turned on and sexually frustrated. He smiled at her.

She pulled him back down and whispered hoarsely into his ear, “I’m down for anything; you can bring him along. My friend likes him.” She sounded desperate as she ground against his thigh.

He smiled sweetly, his hand pressed to the small of her back as he pulled her closer. “Cuteness, you’re way too adorable right now, but I really can’t tonight.” He straightened back up and scanned his eyes through the crowd. He knew they could see the four of them. Sousuke’s face was as sour as ever, but he looked like he’d calmed down for a moment. Apparently, he knew as much as Seijuro that the girls weren’t a threat at all. Seijuro ducked his head down and gave a wicked grin; he was enjoying this night so much.

He caught the girls’ attention and mouthed, _Watch this_ with a wink. He sunk his big hand into the baby soft hair at the back of Makoto’s head and turned his face towards him. His gold eyes shifted over the crowd and he made eye contact as he pulled an unaware Makoto into a deep kiss. Makoto gasped into Seijuro’s mouth, but he easily turned to Seijuro, taking the girl with him as he crowded into the man’s space. He gave a quake-y moan as Seijuro licked into his mouth, opening it readily. Seijuro knew it was mostly the alcohol, but god, he couldn’t resist. Even though his reasons were a little evil, he was enjoying this kiss with a weak and pliant Makoto. The girl between them was in heaven, and Seijuro pulled the brunet against his side.

With a mess of tongues untangling, Seijuro slowly broke away from the kiss. Makoto’s eyelids fluttered and his red lips were parted like he wanted more.

The brunet at Seijuro’s side gave a needy whine and grabbed Seijuro’s hair, pulling him next into a kiss with her. If it wasn’t for that, he would have seen Sousuke coming.

The man barreled through the crowd like a bowling ball, and he was on Seijuro in a second flat, breathing so heavy. He pulled Makoto away from Seijuro and behind his back, as he shoved the other man back hard. Thankfully, Seijuro had enough presence of mind to let his little brunette dance partner go. He watched Makoto snap out of his trance in a second flat. He took in the scene and a furious Sousuke, and his blissed-out face shifted to instant fear, skin going pale white. Sousuke didn’t see it at all; Seijuro grit his teeth and pursed his lips. He raised his hands and took slow steps back, away from the crowd, away from Makoto, trusting the girls to keep him safe for now, because he had to get Sousuke away from Makoto. He hadn’t foreseen this happening... Shit.

“Sousuke, calm down,” he yelled flatly over the music. “It was a joke.” Sousuke was huffing, fists clenched. Makoto looked at the back of his head like he barely knew the other man. “You’re scaring Makoto,” Seijuro said, tone turning a little desperate when he saw Makoto begin to shake. He hadn’t meant for it to become like this; he hadn’t thought Sousuke would become so blinded by rage that he’d forget Makoto was there, that he’d forget... Wait, did he understand that Makoto had a trauma linked to abusive men...?

“Shit...” murmured Seijuro, realizing his mistake way too late. This wasn’t about Sousuke; this was only about Makoto, but he’d been too focused on riling Sousuke up to remember...

Sousuke hissed at him. “I really want to fucking punch you,” he said in a low voice. Still, his eyes cast back and Seijuro was so relieved to see that Sousuke remembered Makoto was there. “I _really_ want to punch you,” he reiterated. “You’re so fucking lucky he’s here.” Seijuro had no doubt that Sousuke would deck him if Makoto wasn’t there to see it. But the anger on his face was enough to petrify Makoto.

When Sousuke didn’t look to be backing down, and Makoto’s mind was probably racing through so many things, he rushed forward. As Sousuke raised a hand to smack Seijuro, Makoto flew towards him and wrapped himself around Sousuke’s arm.

“Don’t!” he screamed, terrified for Seijuro. If it wasn’t this situation, Seijuro would have been proud of Makoto. Sousuke’s eyes snapped wide open and he slowly glanced down at Makoto, who clung desperately to him. Sousuke could feel the man tremble against him. He raised his free hand like he wanted to lay a reassuring hand on Makoto’s head, but he froze midway. He clenched his fist and frowned.

“Please don’t,” sobbed Makoto. He jumped back in fear as Sousuke lowered the arm he’d raised to Seijuro. Makoto’s shaking hands raised in fear as he stared with wide, wet eyes at Sousuke. Never had Seijuro seen a man’s face drain of anger so fast. Sousuke glanced at Seijuro with an accusing look, but for once, Seijuro hadn’t planned this at all. How could he have? This was way too cruel for Makoto. But still, he didn’t speak up in defense of the man, to reassure Makoto that it was a misunderstanding.

Sousuke tried calling Makoto’s name, but he stopped when Makoto dropped his head and shook in his shoes. “Shit...” he whispered in true broken desperation as he realized what he’d done. “Ah, fuck...”

Seijuro pressed his lips together, waiting until Sousuke stalked off. He waited for Makoto to lower his hands. He waved goodbye, an apology to the girls. Then he whisked Makoto away. Outside, he grabbed his face and pressed his forehead to Makoto’s.

“I’m so sorry, Makoto,” he whispered, nearly in tears. God, he’d done such a terribly stupid thing. He would beat himself up over it forever.

“No,” hushed Makoto, near to tears as he clung to Seijuro’s sleeve. “Are you okay?” he asked in true Makoto fashion. Even as he trembled, scared to his very soul, he worried more about his friends.

“I’m fine! I’m worried about you!”

Makoto fell against Seijuro and let out a broken wail. “He scared me so badly!” he admitted, in tears. Seijuro hugged him tight, his shame and regret building as his heart broke.

“God, I’m so sorry, Makoto, I did such a stupid thing-“

“No, it was fine. Sousuke shouldn’t... why was he so mad? He pushed me and I... I don’t know why he was so mad!”

Seijuro couldn’t tell Makoto why; he couldn’t say it. _”Sousuke’s in love with you, that’s why.”_ He was too blinded by his shame to notice that Makoto was taking Sousuke’s anger towards Seijuro as anger at him, too.

He just hustled Makoto to his car and then back home. Had he pushed Makoto a step forward or made him take two steps back tonight? He’d just wanted Makoto to understand how wonderful and gorgeous he was, how much he could be desired, but he’d fucked it all right up. He listened to Makoto’s quiet breathing for a long time as he played the events over and over in his mind.

How was he supposed to protect this angel? Could he even do it at all? Was his cause as noble as he wanted to believe, or was he just a selfish bastard like the others?

He didn’t know the answers, and that tore him up inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it too much?? 😂😂 
> 
> Honestly, maybe I should just write an alternate ending where Mako ends up with Sei for all you hardcore shippers 😘


	20. Chase What Makes You Happy

Makoto hated to admit it, but he was starting to really enjoy dancing at work. If Haru heard him say it, he’d blow a gasket, and though he was sure Nagisa and Kisumi knew, he couldn’t say the words aloud to them either. The only thing he couldn’t get used to was the attention he was getting now. Nagisa and Kisumi shrugged it off, but Makoto found it hard to not use his knee-jerk reaction of denying every compliment and dollar bill that flew his way. His jar was getting too full, but he couldn’t stomach actually using any of the tips he made, feeling like he didn’t deserve them as much as the veterans did. 

He was currently crouched down before his locker, hugging his knees as he stared at his overflowing jar. The wings on his back felt heavy and undeserved.

A soft hand tapped at Makoto’s bare shoulder, and he turned, flustered, to find Kisumi behind him, his smile soft but concerned. He squatted down beside Makoto and leaned in to see what was so interesting for the brunet in his locker.

“Oh, wow!” Kisumi exclaimed with wide eyes. “Is this all from tips?!”

“Yeah... it’s too much...”

“I mean, I get it! We all knew you’d be super popular, but why are you putting it all in that jar?!”

Makoto shook his head, dropping his chin down. His iridescent plastic halo tapped against the locker above his own. He self-consciously brushed it back a little, his hair messy. “I just... worry that they... might come back for it...”

Kisumi stared with a dumb expression at Makoto. “Who?” he asked in confusion. “The customers?”

“Yeah, they might come back... and want their money back...”

Kisumi tossed his head back and roared in laughter. He fell down on his ass and belly laughed. “You’ve said some ridiculous things before... but this takes the cake!” Kisumi wiped at his eyes and covered his mouth as he tried to contain his laughter. “Oh my gosh-!”

Makoto stared at his jar, distraught. He really didn’t know what to do. He hugged his knees tighter, until Kisumi quieted down and threw himself against Makoto’s back, hugging him tight.

“Makoto, stop being so silly and just enjoy the fact that the men who come here adore you! You’re adorable! You’ll be number one in no time at all, and we all knew that when we recommended you.”

“I don’t deserve it at all!” Makoto cried in horror, eyes teary. Kisumi hugged him tighter and smiled against his shoulder.

“You do deserve it, cuteness. Trust me, no one’s mad or complaining about it. Nagisa and I both know you deserve it far more than us.”

Makoto turned to Kisumi with a deep frown, but the pink-haired male just booped his nose.

“Don’t worry about it so much; just enjoy it. No one’s mad about it at all, so you should just enjoy yourself.”

Makoto turned back to his locker and pressed his hands to his face, lips quivering as they curved down in a frown. He wished it were as easy as Kisumi made it sound, but there were little voices in Makoto’s head that made it hard to do what Kisumi said. Makoto wrung his hands together.

Kisumi reached out and pried them apart, pulling Makoto around to face him. “Do you love what you’re doing?”

Makoto’s eyes lit up wide, and slowly he nodded. When asked so straight-forwardly, he couldn’t lie. He really loved dancing. He would have never guessed he’d be any good at it at all, and there were a lot of things he still couldn’t do, but he was trying his best, and it felt good.

“Then that’s all that matters,” Kisumi said with a proud smile. “People can tell you love it, and that makes them love watching you. So don’t worry about others so much and just have fun.”

Makoto gave a slow nod, slowly turning more sure. He smiled at his friend, Kisumi’s purple eyes glinting as he grinned back. The black, curly devil’s horns stuck out in stark contrast to Kisumi’s pastel hair, and his big smile made it hard to think Kisumi had ever done a bad thing in his life. They exchanged looks and giggled after a moment. Kisumi stood and held his hand down for Makoto. “Come on, you little angel.”

Makoto stood and swayed on his heels, shutting his locker with a shoe. He smiled at Kisumi, who was wearing a corset similar to Makoto’s white sequined one, his wings small and black as opposed to Makoto’s white feathery ones. His light-up tail made the whole outfit in Makoto’s opinion, and he looked stunning as always in his heels and fishnet tights. Makoto tugged self- consciously at his thigh-high white socks, fixing the big bows on the front of them. The mini tutus they wore could barely be called skirts, and if Makoto moved even a millimeter, his ass and panties would surely show. But it was part of the job, and Makoto enjoyed the little outfits they wore, so he wasn’t going to complain. The job had always come with people who got a little too handsy, but with Rei and the boss around, it had never been anything more than an innocent touch. Unlike the others, Makoto didn’t let the customers stick dollar bills in his panties or bra as he walked around the club.

The floor was busy, and when their boss spotted them, he grabbed Makoto and tossed a tray and notepad at him. “I need you to wait tables tonight. Kisumi, you’ll take Makoto‘s stage time.”

“Boss, I can be on the floor instead-“

But Makoto waved at Kisumi and smiled at their boss. “Okay,” he said with a nod. “I don’t mind.”

So, with a push, Makoto was sent off into the packed club, his wings glittering behind him.

A lot of regulars asked about his outfit and why he wasn’t dancing tonight, and Makoto felt the time just whizz past. Two hours into his shift, and he nearly missed it when Rei crooked his finger at him to beckon him over. He excused himself after he finished taking orders and clack-clacked to the bar in his heels.

Rei was sporting an unusual smile, much wider than normal, and he nodded toward the front entrance. “Someone’s here to see you,” he said with a reassuring smile. “Here he comes...”

Makoto whirled around, nervousness rising. Kai wasn’t allowed in, but had Sousuke-? But no, the man strutting toward him was blond, blue-eyed. His teeth were impossibly white and he was tall and well-built. He was drop-dead gorgeous, and he looked slightly familiar to Makoto.

“ _Bonsoir_ , little angel!” Was that... French? It flowed perfectly into Japanese, only the slightest of accents to be detected, but Makoto was star struck. A warm hand grabbed at one of his own and the man pulled it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to Makoto’s knuckles as he smiled with his eyes at the brunet. Oh god, he was so pretty. Wasn’t he...?

“I’m Matsumoto Raphael, and I’ve been dying to meet you since I saw you dance the other night.”

“Ah, you’re-!” Makoto choked out in surprise, eyes going wide as he stared down at his hand in the blond man’s palm.

“I swim with Nanase and Matsuoka,” Matsumoto said with a twinkling grin. Makoto clapped his free hand over his gaping mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he squeaked out, unsure of how to take any of this in. He glanced to his left at Rei, but the man just shrugged and grinned back in amusement. Makoto’s head swiveled back to Matsumoto, who still held his hand gently to his lips. “Ah... I didn’t recognize you...”

“It’s alright, _mon chéri_. My face is not nearly as unforgettable as yours.”

Makoto turned beet red, his other hand waving in front of his face. Matsumoto just grinned wide like he was loving every second of praising Makoto. “Could I buy you a drink and spend some time with you?”

Makoto blanked for a moment, forgetting where he was. “Ah... I’m... on the clock...”

Blue eyes shifted behind Makoto and he gave an amused little laugh. “But your friend the bartender has already mixed us some drinks...”

Makoto’s head whipped around and he stared wide-eyed at Rei, who was pretending like he hadn’t just done a single thing. Matsumoto took Makoto’s hand and led him to the bar. He pulled out a chair for him before sitting down himself, smiling all the while.

“I saw you dance a few weeks ago and I’ve been anxious to see you again, so I asked Haru about you, and he sent me back here.”

“Haru sent you?” Makoto asked with a confused raised brow as he stared at the drink Rei had mixed for him. He looked up at the bartender again, Rei smiling and motioning for him to just drink it. Makoto glanced around nervously, but their boss was nowhere in sight. Cautiously, he took a sip. Matsumoto smiled and took a drink of his own.

“Yes,” Matsumoto nodded. “I’d hoped it might mean that I stand a chance.”

Makoto turned and blinked wide-eyed at the man before him. His eyes were piercing, but unlike Kai’s icy blue, Makoto saw only kindness here. The eye color was where any similarity ended. Matsumoto was only a little taller than himself, and he was lean like Makoto had been back in his hay day.

Matsumoto must have been sitting at the table with Haru and Rin and the rest of the swim team, but he’d been so focused on Sousuke that he could barely remember any other faces. He felt terrible, but he couldn’t say that he didn’t remember the man. Instead, he smiled and said quietly, “I remember, you were here with the rest of the team.”

“Yes!” Matsumoto grinned wide, taking another drink from his beverage. His voice went a little softer when he leaned forward and began to rub his thumb over the edge of Makoto’s wings. “I was shocked when Haru encouraged me to come; I thought surely you’d have a significant other, as gorgeous as you are.” Blue eyes warmly coasted over Makoto’s skin, and he shivered pleasantly, unconsciously leaning closer.

“I’m not...” he began, wondering how much he should tell of his two disastrous relationships, that he wasn’t looking to start another one... “I’m just enjoying my life for now,” he finally mumbled quietly. He looked up and smiled. “I have good friends and that’s what’s important to me right now.”

“Ahh,” whispered Matsumoto with a smile. His fingers travelled over the edge of Makoto’s wings, softly touching him where feather met skin between Makoto’s shoulder blades. He shivered and watched Matsumoto warily, but there were no red flags going up at all. Plus, Haru had sent him. Why... had he sent this man? It was a puzzle to Makoto.

“I’ll let you know that I’m interested in a lot more than being friends with you, but I’m okay with starting there if you’d like.” His smile was warm and radiated light everywhere.

Makoto didn’t know how to respond to someone as dazzling and charming as him. Kai and Sousuke had both had their elements of charm, but this man oozed it with such ease. Kai would be furious. That thought alone made Makoto whisper, “I’d like to be friends, Matsumoto-san.” He gave a small smile, eyes closing as Matsumoto’s fingers moved soft and warm, pleasant tingles following as he traced over Makoto’s bare shoulder and down his arm. Fingers linked through his own and his hand was pulled up again.

“Call me Raphael,” the blond husked against Makoto’s knuckles, green eyes snapping open at the sensation. The man cradled his hand like it was a national treasure, lips just out of reach, but his warm breath sent shivers down Makoto’s spine.

“Ahh,” whispered Makoto, trying to get his tongue around the name. “Lapha-er?”

He frowned and looked down, cheeks turning red, but Raphael just smiled. He leaned in and whispered, “Adorable,” pulling Makoto’s hand to his chest, his other hand sliding around his back to cradle the man. “Say it again.”

“Laphael?” His R sounded somewhere between an L and an R; he couldn’t get his tongue to roll like it needed to.

The blond hummed softly, nodding. “Most of the time I just go by Matsumoto when I’m here because it’s easier, but I want you to call me Raphael... It sounds heavenly on your lips.”

“I feel like I’m butchering it,” Makoto flushed, a little frown on his lips, but when Matsumoto pulled back, he was smiling brightly.

“No, _mon belle_ , it’s wonderful to hear you say it.” He turned Makoto’s hand against his chest and leaned back, pressing something into Makoto’s palm. “Would you give me your phone number? I’d like to get to know you much better.”

Makoto blushed as he stared at the lit screen in his palm. This man was so smooth, and Makoto could tell it would be so easy to fall in love with him... Was that bad or good? Makoto didn’t trust his instincts on men anymore, but the fact that Haru had sent Raphael had to mean something. So he typed his number into Raphael’s phone, looking up with a shy smile. The man beamed as he took his phone back, proud. Makoto watched him add too many heart emojis to Makoto’s contact info, saving it like he was scared he might lose it. He looked up with a big smile and glittering eyes.

“Perfect,” he whispered proudly, caressing Makoto’s fingers again. This time when he pulled them up, he did kiss them, and Makoto let the tingle it caused wreak havoc inside his heart.

“I have to... get back to work,” he whispered reluctantly. Remembering his drink, he noted in a panic that he’d bring out some money to cover it, but Matsumoto just laughed and waved him off.

“It’s a small price to pay for some time with you.”

Makoto hobbled off, flushed. He had to take a moment in the locker room to collect himself, but it wasn’t any better when he came back out and found Matsumoto laughing at the bar with Rei, making friends so easily with the man next to him. Every time their eyes caught, Raphael beamed wide at Makoto.

Makoto spent the whole night trying to find the plot twist, trying to figure out why Haru of all people had sent this man here. By the end of the night, he was only flustered and even more confused. He stuffed his tips into his overflowing jar, wings trembling a little. Most of the cash was from Raphael, who’d so sneakily snuck bills into Makoto’s skirt waist band or stockings. All he remembered was hot fingers caressing his skin, and he shivered with a shy smile.

“Looks like you had a good night,” Nagisa noted as he stripped behind Makoto, smiling at the brunet.

“Ah...” whispered Makoto breathlessly as he turned to look up at the blond. He blushed, thinking back on Matsumoto’s lips on his fingers, his warmth. He hugged his hands to his chest and smiled down at the floor. His cheeks were hot and flushed. For the first time in a very long time, he was happy and hopeful. He’d forgotten this light feeling as his heart thumped in his chest.

He spent most of the night staying up to text the blond, time slipping by unnoticed until Makoto fell asleep with his phone in hand and on his pillow. When he woke up to a text of Raphael asking him out on a date, he easily responded with, “I’d love that...” Makoto should have known from the very first moment that he would be too weak against this man, that the idea of waiting to get to know each other first as friends was a moot point. Makoto had butterflies in his stomach. His best intentions for self-discovery were blasted away in the heat of the fluttery feeling. 

Seijuro gave him a quirky little look when he saw his bedhead and goofy smile, but he just hugged Makoto to his chest and said he was proud of the brunet. Makoto’s heart fluttered about in his chest and there was nothing he could do about it.

x

The water was warm over Makoto’s skin, and he reveled in the feel of it. It was getting cold outside again, but the aquatic center and pool were always so warm. Makoto’s heart felt light and full when he was in the water again, and he realized now how much he’d rejected that part of himself when he’d walked away from swimming. Slowly, slowly, he was rebuilding his body to its former glory, but it was slow going. He bobbed his head up over the edge of the water and looked at Seijuro, giving a nervous smile. He scratched gently at his scarred jaw.

“Is it okay?” he whispered, toes stretched to touch the bottom of the deeper part of the pool. Seijuro knelt down by the side of the pool and smiled kindly.

“It’ll take time. But your form is beautiful. I’m sure it’s always been, seeing how your muscles remember it so easily.”

Makoto blushed and ducked the lower half of his face under the water. “I’ll do another lap,” he blurted just before spinning to push himself off, Seijuro laughing and saying, “Just don’t push yourself.”

Makoto swam a full lap, a little shocked to find Seijuro gone when he brought his head back up to look around. He stayed and soaked up the water for a moment, until worry set it. He pulled himself out of the pool and wrapped himself in the big towel Seijuro had bought for him and set on a bench beside the pool. Like a cape over his shoulders, he held the soft material to his chest and padded to the locker room. Voices drifted from the hall outside; Makoto waddled quietly to the door and peered out through a crack, listening.

Sousuke stood in front of Seijuro, hands clenched but head down, his voice gravelly. Makoto jerked back as fear ran through him and he shut the door, but they were close enough to still hear through the shut door.

“Sousuke, just go home.”

“Why won’t you let me see him?! You’re not his dad!” Sousuke’s voice was loud and agitated. 

“What good do you think seeing him will do when you’re like this? You’re a mess!”

“I just want to see him!”

Makoto hugged his arms around himself and sank to the floor. He pressed his hands to his ears to cover them; Sousuke’s voice was terrifying him, and too many bad memories were surfacing. He hated that Sousuke was so mad, and what had Makoto done wrong? The sudden change in Sousuke had been so shocking that Makoto couldn’t find the cause of it; what had he done to make Sousuke so angry at him?

“I have things to say to him, and it has nothing to do with you!” There was so much venom in Sousuke’s words that Makoto choked out a tiny cry. There was a shuffle outside the door, Seijuro grunting.

“Go home!” Seijuro yelled through gritted teeth. “Makoto doesn’t want to see you!” 

“You’re lying! Stop making up shit that’s convenient for you!”

More struggling, and Makoto had to clench his eyes as hot tears spilled. His heart was breaking as he wracked his mind for the possible reasons why Sousuke was so angry with him. His tender heart could barely stand it. He wanted to run out and beg them to stop, but the idea of Sousuke turning his anger towards Makoto kept him rooted.

It sounded like the two were fighting. Seijuro grunted again, and Sousuke cursed, and then a loud crack sounded through the hallway. Makoto’s heart jumped out of his chest and he was on his feet and out the door before he could think.

A set of fierce aqua eyes turned to Makoto, livid with anger, and Makoto shrank back against the door behind him. His vision tunneled down and all he could see was the anger directed at him. Everything went white, his hearing like there was cotton in his ears.

“Stop it, Kai,” he whimpered as he slid down to the floor beneath him, everything swimming before his eyes. His ears were waterlogged and his vision was blurry. A big body jerked as Sousuke’s eyes and mouth gaped open at Makoto’s shaky voice.

But Seijuro had Sousuke pinned down beneath him, and there was a nasty red welt already forming on Sousuke’s right eye. His eyes had shot open when he saw Makoto and he’d yelled out the man’s name, but Makoto only felt fear like an ice pick through his chest, and he yelped loudly as he curled into the fetal position, arms over his head. His legs trembled, feet to the icy cold tile floor.

“You’re just like him…”

Silence washed like an unsteady wave through Makoto’s body, and he felt nauseous. What had he just said? Had he really meant... but Sousuke was scaring him. As his ears slowly popped, he could hear Seijuro dragging Sousuke up and the other frantically calling for Makoto. The main door slammed open and Seijuro yelled, “Get out before I call the cops!”

Silence fell around them as the door shut on Sousuke, and the lock slid into place.

“I’m sorry, Makoto...” Seijuro’s voice sounded tired and broken. Makoto could barely lift his head, too many bad memories flooding in. “He can’t hurt you. I’ll keep you safe.”

There was a dangerous tone to Seijuro’s voice too, and Makoto felt too overwhelmed with bad memories and negative emotions. He jumped up and scurried into the locker room. He sat in front of the door inside until he stopped shaking. He was left alone as he dressed himself. By the time he came out, the whole center was quiet. It was eerie, and Makoto looked around with wide eyes until he caught sight of the redhead.

“Shit,” cursed Seijuro from the office, voice quiet. He was turned towards the open door, sitting in his chair, watching Makoto with frustrated eyes, his hands on his face. “I fucked up,” Seijuro whispered.

Slowly, Makoto walked towards the man, hating that the demons from his past refused to let him go. He grabbed Seijuro’s hands and slid his own into them, and the man pulled him between his thick thighs into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry, Makoto,” he breathed in a broken voice, Makoto petting his soft hair. He was warm, and he felt like something solid in Makoto’s turbulent life. Makoto sank down to his knees and clung to Seijuro.

“I’m so scared,” he sobbed. “I don’t know... what I did... Why is he angry?”

“It’s not you,” Seijuro whispered in shock as he got a small glimpse into Makoto’s head space, but Makoto didn’t hear him, too consumed with his own thoughts. “It was never you!”

Makoto clung to Seijuro’s jacket and sobbed into the material of the sleeve. Seijuro just held him fiercely, his own mind a stormy mess. His knuckles still stung from punching Sousuke, but he’d never felt so good about physical violence. Now if he could only help Makoto as easily as that...

x

Makoto could barely believe it when he picked up his chiming phone to see Raphael had texted him. It wasn’t the text itself that was so shocking, but the subject of the text.

 _Let me take you out, Makoto. I think I’m in love,_ mon ange. 

They’d been talking a lot recently, and Raphael had made it a regular thing to come visit Makoto at the club. Still, in Makoto’s mind, this was all happening very fast. With shaking hands, the phone laid precariously on his open palms, Makoto walked out to the living room with wide eyes and a small o-shaped mouth. Seijuro glanced up and carefully took the phone from the other when he didn’t say anything.

“Who’s this guy?” Seijuro asked immediately.

“He’s-!”

“Matsumoto? Wasn’t there a guy on Haru and Rin’s team with that name?”

Makoto nodded, too choked up to speak real words.

“Is he good?” Seijuro asked with narrowed eyes, glancing back down at Makoto’s phone.

“Can you read the texts?” Makoto asked in a tiny voice, because he wasn’t sure himself. He’d been so easily fooled so many times... “Haru sent him...”

With one hand, Seijuro scrolled through Makoto’s texts with the blond Frenchman, and with the other he pulled out his own phone, pressing it to his ear.

“Haru,” he greeted shortly. “Tell me about Matsumoto.”

Seijuro listened as he scrolled, handing Makoto’s phone back when he was done. He watched the brunet as Haru talked.

“He’s okay?” he asked in the end, Haru’s short reply enough for Seijuro.

“I won’t go outside with him,” Makoto promised in a tiny voice, and he felt like a teenager asking for permission, but he needed someone to tell him if it was okay or not. He was so confused. Was it even possible for a good man to want to go out with him? His hands shook as he clenched his phone to his chest. But god, he wanted to see Raphael again. Maybe it was a rebound, but he wanted to be happy. He wanted to feel the rush of someone telling him sweet things and doting on him and not turning into a psycho by week two... Maybe he didn’t deserve that, but his heart ached for a little bit of love and affection, the kind of love that Seijuro or his other friends couldn’t give him.

“Baby,” whispered Seijuro as he waved Makoto to his lap. He cuddled the man up in a blanket and rested his chin atop Makoto’s soft hair. “If this will make you happy, then it’s okay. Since Haru claims he’s a good guy, I think it’ll be okay.”

Still, Makoto clung to Seijuro and trembled in fear of the future. What he wanted seemed so unattainable at times, and he worried that every step forward was a new mistake he was making.

Seijuro sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you is the right thing to do. If it was up to me, I’d never let you out of my sight, but I know... I know you’ll need someone who loves you, in a romantic sense. As much as I want to keep you for myself, I know I have to let you live your life. And god, Makoto, I want to see you be so happy.”

He hugged Makoto a little tighter and soothed his back. “Do you want to try to see if he’ll make you happy?”

As scared as he was, Makoto gave a tiny nod. Yes, more than anything, he wanted to try, and if it had to be anyone, why not someone who made him feel like a million dollars? Raphael’s way with compliments and terms of endearment was unparalleled to anyone aside from Seijuro. And Makoto wanted it; he wanted something easy like that, something that made him overflow with joy.

With frozen fingers, Makoto typed back a shaky response; Raphael responded as fast as lightning. Seijuro waited patiently, not invading Makoto’s privacy unless invited to see, which Makoto did.

 _Don’t worry,_ mon souffle. _I’ll make you a wonderful meal at my place. I must admit I’m quite a good cook._

“‘Mon souffle’?” Seijuro snorted. “Is this man naming you after breakfast foods?”

Makoto pulled up his internet browser with wide eyes and found a translator. His cheeks went bright red when he saw the translation. “It means-“ he choked out, but he couldn’t say it.

 _My breath_.

Seijuro stared at the screen for a moment before leaning his head back and groaning. “God, he sounds awful and perfect for you at the same time. I don’t know if I hate him or love him.” He looked up and raised an eyebrow. “He sounds like a pretentious douche bag.”

“He’s not! He’s sweet!” Makoto blurted out, turning beet red the moment he realized what he’d said. But Seijuro just tossed his head back and laughed.

“Fine, you win,” he said with a big grin. “Go get yourself a date with Mr. Perfect. I get it, I’m just not enough for a man like you.” He swished a dramatic hand over his forehead and sighed mournfully.

Makoto let out a squeak. “You’ll always be number one!”

Seijuro looked up and gave a big, sweet smile. “It’s okay. I don’t have to be your number one man, as long as I’m in your top list of friends.”

Makoto fisted at his sweater over his heart, wishing he could speak better. Seijuro made him feel some kind of way that no one ever had, but how could he say it wasn’t enough because Seijuro was and would always be, only a friend. Seijuro cupped his face and stroked at his jaw.

“Don’t worry, my sweet. I get it. I’m not upset.”

Makoto looked up with doubtful eyes, still worried, but Seijuro just gave him a big smile.

“I love you,” he reassured, hugging Makoto tighter. “You deserve to be someone’s reason to live. You’ve relied on nasty men for far too long.”

Makoto curled up against a broad, warm chest and gave a small nod, lip quivering. His eyes swam as he typed back,

 _I’d really love that..._

x

“A date?” asked Nagisa with wide eyes. “With who?!” He leaned forward, hands clenched on the bar top and staring intensely at Makoto.

Rei just continued to dry his cups with a smirk on his face. “He seems like a very nice man,” he said nonchalantly. Nagisa’s head whipped around so sharply that he surely had whiplash.

“You knew about this?! Rei!!” He snapped back to Makoto. “Is he hot? Let me see a photo!”

Makoto fished for his phone with wide eyes, but it wasn’t like he just had a photo of Raphael laying around.

“Text him for a selfie!” Nagisa demanded as he crowded over Makoto’s phone. Makoto looked up at Rei and Kisumi, but the two were no help. Rei was just smiling tenderly at his boyfriend and Kisumi looked just as eager as Nagisa.

The response from Raphael came quickly, and soon Nagisa and Kisumi were ooh-ing and ahh-ing over Raphael’s selfie. Makoto was blushing behind them like a madman, not having expected to feel this rush of pride. When was the last time he’d shown off someone like this? Well, he hadn’t done it with Kai, and Sousuke... He shook his head and focused again on the image on the screen. The blond was smiling, winking, his hair a little messy but looking very handsome in a beanie.

 _You caught me on the way home from drinking,_ mon petit ange, he typed with a winky face. As he began typing more and more, Makoto locked his phone in embarrassment. Nagisa looked up and crooned at the look on the brunet’s face.

“Makoto! Look at you! You’re glowing!”

This only made Makoto’s face go even redder, and now Kisumi got in on it. They squeezed and rubbed at his cheeks, making horrifying little happy noises. Makoto tried to catch Rei’s eye for help, but the man just laughed.

“Seijuro approved this?” Kisumi asked in shock when they’d finally let Makoto be. “I’m honestly shocked.”

“He told me Raphael had to come pick me up so he can meet him.”

Nagisa and Kisumi’s eyes went wide, and then they covered their mouths and snickered adoringly. Makoto pressed his lips together. He still couldn’t say the man’s name well at all, and while Matsumoto found it adorable, it highly embarrassed Makoto.

“Oh my god, I want to meet him too! You two will make the most adorable couple!”

Makoto raised his hands to slow the blond’s role, but he couldn’t say he hated the idea of it.

“Don’t say you don’t deserve him or something like that,” Kisumi frowned, eyes critical. Makoto slowly lowered his hands.

He wondered if he’d ever not worry about that. He rubbed subconsciously at his scar. His complex might be ever-present, but he knew enough now to know he didn’t deserve to be treated like Kai had treated him either. He had to set boundaries for himself, and if he was honest with himself, his dream man seemed completely unobtainable, but the heart wanted what it wanted.

Makoto couldn’t picture himself with Raphael, but maybe that would come with time. He was very sweet and caring, and maybe that’s what Makoto needed. Was it okay if it was just for a while, to boost Makoto’s own ego from the dead? He dropped his chin and closed his eyes.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” whispered Kisumi sweetly, “let me tell you that you’re wonderful and you deserve the best man out there. You deserve to be happy, and let someone make you happy. Just... have some fun, and let a relationship be easy...”

Makoto looked up and nodded slowly. Kisumi smiled sweetly, the glitter on his face catching the lights above. He gave a small smile back, and Nagisa crooned over Kisumi’s shoulder.

“Look at our little beauty.”

Kisumi stroked Makoto’s cheek and nodded proudly. “Raphael should feel damn lucky to get a date with you. Remember that.”

Makoto blushed. He doubted he could agree with that, but the sentiment felt nice. He smiled at his friends. Even if his own judgement of dating partners was broken, he could rely on those around him, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My OC game is so strong in this fic 😂


	21. Happier

Seijuro cleared his throat when a knock on their door sounded. It was like barely contained excitement, feet shuffling impatiently outside; Seijuro was enjoying the dance. He didn’t move to open it until Makoto gave him his own nervous look.

“I won’t ruin this for you,” Seijuro sighed wearily, but when Makoto couldn’t see his face anymore, he couldn’t help but smile. He opened the door with stern eyes, though, but this did nothing to the happy puppy on the other side. Raphael bounced on his feet and grinned wide, eyes slipping for a moment from Seijuro to inside the apartment, searching for Makoto. The way his face lit up when he spotted Makoto was enough for Seijuro, but he couldn’t let either of the others know that.

“Matsumoto?” he asked in a deep voice, looking the other man over. Blue eyes snapped back to Seijuro and he thought it was no wonder Makoto had fallen for him. Was it the eyes? He noticed a pattern emerging. But the eyes were windows to the soul, and inside Raphael’s eyes were love and excitement and puppy dogs and candy. Seijuro could barely keep his strict, paternal face on.

“Yes, sir! I’m Matsumoto Raphael! It’s so nice to meet you!” He bounced again as he extended a big hand to Seijuro. The redhead took it and shook it firmly.

“Listen, if I hear even a peep from Makoto-“ Seijuro began his speech, but suddenly Makoto was behind him, tugging at his shirt, also shuffling from foot to foot. Oh, he couldn’t do this. He sighed wearily and stepped aside.

“Be home by 11,” he told Makoto.

“Yes, Dad,” joked Makoto. It was shocking to see how absolutely ecstatic his face was. He was beaming shyly from ear to ear. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Raphael for even a second, and neither had the blond. Seijuro rolled his eyes and wondered if he even existed at all.

“Do whatever you want,” he groaned to Makoto before pushing him out the door and shutting it firmly. When their footsteps receded, he sank to the floor and sighed. He was so happy for Makoto, but why was the feeling so heavy? He pressed a hand to his heart. “Stupid idiot,” he muttered. Makoto being only his for these last few months had really done a number on him; he felt like a part of him had just skipped happily out the door.

He looked up at the ceiling and laughed. “What a fool I am.” 

x

Makoto was so nervous he could barely speak. He kept glancing at Raphael, the man smiling proudly back. Makoto’s hands were pressed nervously together, but Raphael reached for them.

“May I hold your hand, my angel?”

Makoto blinked up at Raphael, his deep, sultry voice and that little hint of accent making Makoto feel some kind of way. He wanted to melt into a puddle. He slowly reached out and slipped a hand into Raphael’s waiting one, warmth covering his palm and fingers like it was easy. He should have expected it, but it still surprised him when the Frenchman lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles.

“ _Mon coeur_ , I’m so excited for this evening. I have barely slept at all just dreaming of it.” His eyes shifted over Makoto’s face and he smiled. “You look beautiful.”

Makoto pressed his face down into his fluffy turtleneck as his cheeks burned red. His fingers tightened unconsciously around Raphael’s hand.

“Oh, let’s go home,” the other rushed suddenly, breathless with anticipation, and he whisked Makoto off down the street to a parked car. It was a fancy one, with leather seats that were heated, but still Raphael pulled out a blanket to tuck Makoto in. It wasn’t even that cold outside yet, but Makoto smiled shyly and clung to the blanket gratefully.

Raphael chattered the whole short drive to his place, keeping the atmosphere happy and lively. He parked his car in the garage of a large building, and Makoto stared with wide eyes at the man who greeted them at the front door and held it open, at the huge lobby with chandeliers and the elevator that took them nearly up to the top floor. It was almost like... Raphael pulled out his phone and unlocked his front door, and Makoto gaped in awe at the huge space laid before him.

“Are you rich?” he choked out rudely. But Raphael just laughed and wrapped an arm around Makoto to guide him inside. The living room was the size of Makoto’s old place, and beyond that were three closed doors. A bedroom, bathroom, and office space, Raphael explained. And to the right was the biggest kitchen Makoto had ever seen.

“Ahh, my parents like to spoil me,” he said. “This was their place when they lived here, so they kept on paying the rent for me.”

Makoto choked on a glob of spit, reorganized his priorities and life. Did he really deserve to be standing here, next to a man who was fawning more over him than the huge apartment around them? To the left was a whole wall of windows, a gorgeous view of the city. Makoto had half a mind to just turn back around and leave. He couldn’t possibly have anything to offer.

A warm hand pressed to his waist and hot breath whispered over his cheek as Raphael leaned down a little to whisper, “Welcome to my home, _mon ange_. Make yourself comfortable, tell me anything you desire. I hope you like pasta.”

Makoto shut his eyes and let the warmth of Raphael’s voice and his body wash over him. Was this even real? He slowly turned to look up into gorgeous blue eyes; Raphael was so close. His eyes slipped down to pink, full lips, shocking back up to Raphael’s eyes, but he was smiling.

“I love pasta,” Makoto could only think to respond back. A soft kiss alighted his cheek and Raphael pulled back with a wide smile.

“ _Magnifique_!” Raphael rushed to the kitchen, Makoto slowly following behind on unsure feet. He stopped at the first counter and felt his mouth drop open; he shuffled on the hardwood flooring in socked feet. It already smelled wonderful in the kitchen. Makoto couldn’t tear his eyes off of Raphael as he moved. With incredible ease, he put together a complicated dish, making sure Makoto had a drink, feeding him bits to try on little spoons. Slowly, Makoto inched closer to where Raphael stood, the heat of the stove and Raphael’s smile welcoming.

The blond crooned at Makoto in French, and even though Makoto didn’t understand a word, the kindness and fondness in the man’s voice made him blush madly. Raphael seemed to be enjoying his reactions, too.

“How is it?” he asked as he fed Makoto a little sample of his home-made sauce. It was creamy, a hint of cheese, so yummy. Makoto’s eyes fluttered and he nodded dumbly. When he opened his eyes again, Raphael was looking at him with the most adoring look. A finger reached out and stroked over the edge of Makoto’s lips, drawing back and pressing it to his own. He grinned. “You had a little sauce,” he said cheekily, and Makoto flushed, hands flying up to cover his face. Had Raphael really just licked what he’d wiped off Makoto’s face? Makoto was embarrassed and... oh, what was this feeling? His lower region felt tingly, his stomach in knots. He ducked his head down and pulled up his turtleneck to try to hide, but Raphael just kissed his knuckles.

“ _Mon ange_ , you’re so adorable. Can I just feed you like this tonight?”

“No!” yelped out Makoto, overly embarrassed. He peeked our from his hiding place when a rich, gorgeous laugh filled the space around them. Oh... Raphael was gorgeous, with his head tilted back a little and his mouth wide open in a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners, chest rumbling with laughter. He reached over Makoto and pulled down two bowls. He set them down on the counter next to the stove and slowly began plating his creation like some kind of chef in a five-star restaurant.

“My papa taught me a little,” Raphael admitted modestly, but Makoto could remember the taste of the sauce. He blinked in disbelief, and Raphael smiled sweetly at him. He finished and then leaned forward. “My papa used this dish to make my mama fall in love with him, and I’d be lying if I’m not hoping it has the same effect on you, _mon souffle_.”

A finger stroked over Makoto’s bright red cheeks, and Raphael smiled. “Ah, so pretty... My little angel...”

Makoto could barely stand it. He felt like he was weightless, being doted on far more than he deserved, but his spirit yearned for this. He felt like he was parched and had just found an oasis in the desert. He slowly reached out and took hold of the edge of Raphael’s sleeve, all he could manage to do.

“Raphael,” he garbled, trying so hard to get his tongue around those R’s and L’s.

“Oh,” whispered Raphael like he’d had an epiphany. He pressed his lips together like it was the only thing keeping him from swooping in for a kiss. Makoto blinked up at him with big eyes; oh, he’d really like to feel Raphael’s kiss. He physically ached for it, and he tugged at the man’s sleeve without thinking.

“It’s okay,” he hushed into the fabric of his turtleneck. Raphael’s eyes went wide and hopeful. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” breathed Makoto, his whole body screaming for it. A warm hand softly cupped his scarred cheek and rubbed at the indented skin lovingly. Slowly, he moved closer. Ah, he smelled so good. Makoto’s hand tightened again. Like the first drink of cool water, Raphael’s lips met his and Makoto’s mind exploded. It was soft, it was warm, it tasted a bit like yummy cheese, the hint of Raphael’s meal still on his lips. Head blank, Makoto pushed up on his tippy toes and rushed forward, deepening the kiss, need raging in his body. Raphael circled a strong arm around Makoto’s back and pulled him closer, a small sound of pleasure slipping out.

Makoto was trembling by the time the kiss was over. From a third person’s point of view, it had been nothing exciting, but Makoto felt so alive. He ached for more, but Raphael slowly pulled back with a smile. Was there hesitation in his movements too? A hand caressed against Makoto’s back and on his cheek.

“ _Parfait_ ,” Raphael gruffed in a sexy voice, and Makoto flushed red. “You’re wonderful, _mon ange_.”

Makoto could barely breathe, his heart racing in his chest. He clung to Raphael like it was the only thing keeping him up, his hand sliding up under his sleeve, over warm skin. Raphael shivered and smiled, a hint of desire there in his eyes.

“The food will get cold,” he whispered like he himself barely cared, but Makoto slowly nodded and pulled back. It would be terrible if they wasted the man’s hard work. He had to remember and be thankful, appreciate what he was being given.

Raphael grabbed two forks and the plates, and Makoto padded behind him to a dining room table. “Do you drink wine?” Raphael asked as he set their food down, turning to a big cabinet.

“Mm, yes,” Makoto whispered as he took a seat in the plush chair; Raphael had set one plate on each side of one corner of the large table. He turned now and set two wine glasses down, searching next for a good bottle.

“Trebbiano di Lugana, 2001,” he said as he carefully set the bottle down to grab the corkscrew. Makoto gaped at the fancy bottle, ready to say it was too much, but Raphael was already opening it and pouring it out before he could get a sound out.

Raphael sat and had to encourage Makoto to eat. The first bite had Makoto in tears, and it didn’t get any better from there on. With a cloth napkin and then his sleeve, Raphael wiped Makoto’s face and fed him little bites and he smiled as Makoto sobbed over his food.

“It’s so good,” he mourned into his glass of wine, all of it nearly gone now, which wasn’t helping Makoto’s emotional state at all. Raphael stroked his cheek and crooned softly at him, sweet little nothings. He could see why his mother had fallen for his dad with this dish; he was sure he might be falling in love too.

He pulled his legs up and sobbed as Raphael cleared away their plates, trying to collect himself, but he was so overwhelmed. Raphael came back and collected Makoto off his chair, carried him to the living room with the rest of the wine in one hand, their glasses in the other as he still somehow managed to carry Makoto. He sat them down on the couch, Makoto over his lap, setting the bottle and glasses down as he smiled. Makoto wiped his face with his sleeves, but Raphael collected his hands and pulled them away, leaning in again to kiss Makoto’s sweet face.

“Did it work?” he whispered hopefully, his words bubbling with a soft laugh. “I’m sorry to make you cry, my sweet angel.”

Makoto shook his head, hands clenching into the top of Raphael’s shirt. With his little bit of confidence, he pulled himself up into a kiss, Raphael’s warm, sweet lips meeting his salty, cool ones. This time there was no need to stop, and Raphael cupped the back of Makoto’s head, tilting it back. Naturally, their kiss grew deeper, and Makoto was lost in the feeling of it.

“Oh, I could kiss you forever,” Raphael husked as they pulled back for air. He hugged Makoto closer, stroking his cheeks and hands and smiling sweetly.

“What did your friends say of the picture I sent you?”

Makoto turned red again; he couldn’t say it. “You know it wasn’t bad,” he murmured shyly, pouting a little. He looked up under lowered lashes, knowing Raphael knew full well how handsome he was. But it wasn’t that; he actually cared about what Makoto’s friends had to say, knowing that it meant something to Makoto. He hadn’t asked for any history yet, but Makoto was sure he had questions. Still, he was too kind to ask. His heart reminded him of Seijuro, but Raphael was different in a way that made Makoto’s heart pound out of his chest. Did he deserve such wonderful people in his life? Maybe not, but he loved each of them so dearly that he doubted he could ever let them go.

“Kiss me again?” he whispered. Raphael easily complied.

When he pulled back again, he was fishing for his phone. “How about we take a photo together so you can show your friends you had a good time?”

Makoto flushed, but he nodded. Raphael pulled an arm around him and tucked Makoto under his chin. He held his phone up, but all Makoto could see was his red face and pink lips, a fluffy mess of sweater and too much emotion. Still, Raphael crooned over the shots he’d taken. He kissed Makoto’s face and took more photos of just him, compliments pouring from his lips.

“You’re the cutest, I can’t help myself.”

“Please stop,” Makoto begged, mortified, but his shy smile betrayed him. Raphael chuckled and kissed him again.

“How about dessert?” he said with a cheeky smile.

“Can you bake too?” Makoto cried in disbelief. Raphael tossed his head back and laughed out loud.

“No, sorry, this one’s from the bakery down the street. I bought it before I came to pick you up.”

Makoto sighed a huge sigh of relief, and Raphael laughed again. “Were you worried?”

“Yes! You’re already too incredible to be real!” The words slipped out before he could stop them, but it was too late. Raphael’s eyes shifted to serious heat and he rushed forward to claim Makoto’s lips in a hungry passion.

“Say my name, Makoto,” he husked as he lapped at Makoto’s lips. “Mm-aphaeru~”

The blond groaned and sunk his hand into Makoto’s hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. His tongue slipped out, and like some kind of magician, he unwound Makoto with just that muscle. Makoto moaned loudly, clinging to Raphael’s button-up. He wanted so much more; when was the last time he’d craved this kind of intimate contact?

“Raphael~” he crooned in his broken voice, and Raphael moaned into his mouth, tongue diving in again.

“Makoto, my angel, _mon doux trésor, je t'adore follement! Tes lèvres parfaites et ta douce voix~_ ” Words Makoto didn’t understand kept flooding out, until Raphael pulled back, panting and flushed. “Ah, you’re so pretty, my sweet angel. I’m falling for your smile and your kiss and your heart.”

Makoto choked on emotion and shook his head, waving his arms. “I don’t deserve-“

Raphael stole his words away with another kiss. “Don’t say those things about yourself. You deserve the whole world and so much more than I can give you. Argh... I’d do anything...”

Warm hands pulled Makoto’s to Raphael’s chest. “Please, please, say you’ll be mine. I can’t live another moment without you...”

It had to be a bit of exaggeration, but those blue eyes were so gorgeous and earnest that Makoto found himself believing the words Raphael spoke.

And what else could he do but whisper, “Okay,” with a wobbly smile?

Raphael yelped in delight, pulling Makoto into another wet, passionate kiss. Did all the French kiss this well? Makoto lost himself in the bliss of it, of belonging to someone who treasured him so deeply.

He cried again over tiny little desserts that were too cute and yummy for words, and by the time Raphael was driving him home, he wished he didn’t have to go. Raphael linked their fingers and clung to Makoto’s hand.

He parked his car, intent on walking Makoto up, but the brunet didn’t move from his warm spot.

“I don’t want to go,” he whispered honestly.

“I don’t want you to either,” Raphael agreed, but he turned to Makoto with a smile. “Let’s take this slow and do it right. I want to treasure you. More than I want your body, I want your heart to be all mine.”

Makoto’s lips trembled for a moment; this sweet man could see so well through him. He turned to look out the window of the car, an ache in the bottom of his heart that refused to be filled. Even as his heart was overflowing now, he felt... sad.

Raphael stepped out of the car and walked around to Makoto’s side, helping him untuck from his blankets and out of the car. There, he pulled him into a tight hug.

“A great love takes time, and I’ll give you all of mine,” Raphael whispered into red ears. “My sweet, little angel.”

Makoto felt like he didn’t deserve it at all. He couldn’t say a word as Raphael took his hand and led him back to Seijuro’s apartment. He couldn’t speak as tears rolled down his face.

Seijuro was there to great them, and Makoto gave him the biggest smile he could. Raphael hugged him and cupped his face, asking Makoto to call him. Makoto watched him walk back to the stairs, turning to wave and smile before disappearing, and then he turned to Seijuro, giving a quaky smile as he scratched his chin.

“Ah, I guess that’s my boyfriend now,” he said, his voice shaking with joy and overwhelming feelings. Seijuro pulled him into the apartment and smiled at him, wiping his tears.

“Then why do you look so sad?”

Makoto clung to Seijuro’s sleeves and turned his face away. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t tell Seijuro or anyone that despite it all, he still... missed Sousuke...

x

The locker room was noisy with everyone there. Sousuke scanned the room, maybe too hopeful to see a certain face, but he hadn’t seen Makoto since Seijuro had punched him. His face was still tender; seeing Makoto’s face, hearing the other call him Kai had made him realize he deserved the punch. Still, what was he supposed to do?

“Hey, buddy!” An arm slung around Sousuke’s shoulder, a heavy, wet body leaning into his.

“Matsumoto,” he groaned. “You’re wet.” He shooed the man off of him, but Matsumoto just stood next to him grinning like a fool. He’d been very happy today, even more than usual. Sousuke had avoided him because he wanted to throw himself a pity party.

“What happened to your face?” Matsumoto asked as he leaned in, blond eyebrows raised in concern.

Sousuke sighed, muttered, “It was a long time coming...”

Matsumoto just shrugged and let it go. He stood up again and slapped on his big smile once more. “Ask me what I did last weekend.”

Aqua eyes shifted to the blond, frowning. “What did you do?”

Matsumoto spun around, hands clutched to his heart. “I had a date with my angel!” 

Sousuke frowned. “Who’s this?” He hadn’t heard about this yet.

“Oh, he’s so sweet, Sousuke! He’s absolutely perfect, and he makes me so happy! I cooked him dinner and it was absolutely perfect.”

Sousuke turned away, jealousy taking root. He didn’t even know Matsumoto’s date, but the fact that he’d had such a wonderful night while Sousuke was still suffering over a mistake he’d made when he was 18 and stupid, didn’t sit well with him and only added weight to his self- pity. “Good for you,” he mumbled, not sure why Matsumoto had singled him out to rub it in.

Matsumoto moved back to his bag on the bench a few feet down with that big grin still on his face, drying off and dressing himself in dorm-style track pants and a hoodie. He mussed his hair, pulling out his phone and grinning at it like a maniac. Sousuke’d taken his eyes off the man for one minute, and suddenly he was back to gloating some more.

“So listen, I asked this angel out and I never even thought he’d say yes because he’s so out of my league, but he did! I cooked him my mama’s favorite meal and he cried the whole time he ate it; he was so precious, Sousuke! And when I kissed him for the first time it was like...” Matsumoto made a goofy face, miming his mind being blown. “He was so cute, Sousuke.”

Sousuke just hummed, trying to change and dress himself. He didn’t want to be here, but he didn’t trust being alone either. He wanted to take a hot shower before heading home again, but he was so sore, which meant he was moving slower than usual. Who was Matsumoto even talking about?

“You know, he’s worried a lot about what people think of him, but I think he’s gorgeous. Even with the scar, he’s so pretty...”

Sousuke blinked for a frozen moment down at his bag, trying to collect his thoughts and rewind what he’d just heard. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at Matsumoto, who was beaming from ear to ear.

“I took so many photos of him. And a selfie! Do you want to see?”

It wasn’t really an option, but Sousuke had to make sure. There were other men with scars, right? Matsumoto grinned as he lifted his phone, and Sousuke had to force his eyes to focus.

His brain didn’t even process Matsumoto’s face. All he saw were gorgeous green eyes, a little wet, flushed cheeks, a body curled up on a couch against the blond man. He was wearing a turtleneck sweater, his hands fisted into Matsumoto’s shirt. Sousuke’s ears rang. Matsumoto was still babbling, sliding to show more photos he’d taken. Every picture made Makoto seem more beautiful, and Sousuke had a very real realization hit him like a meteor from outer space. He looked up at deep blue eyes and realized for the very first time that Makoto could be stolen away from him by someone who was... _perfect._

Matsumoto babbled on until some of the guys called his name and he smacked Sousuke on the back as he hauled ass out of the locker room to follow his teammates. Sousuke was left in a silent locker room, with only his thoughts and the weight of the world settling on his shoulders. He hadn’t even worried about it before, but now Matsumoto was in Makoto’s life and, by god, he was perfect boyfriend material.

Sousuke blindly sloughed to the showers and blasted the water as hot as it could go. He barely felt it. The reality of what he’d done all those years ago was finally hitting him, and he wondered why he’d thought it would be so easy for Makoto to forgive him if he just apologized. Seijuro, damn him, had been right; a weak apology wasn’t even close to enough. Not when fucking Matsumoto was charging in like a bull toward a red flag, ready to claim all of Makoto. Had Matsumoto... touched Makoto like that? When Sousuke couldn’t even remember what Makoto felt like, was it fresh in Matsumoto’s mind? Could he still remember how warm and soft Makoto’s skin was? Sousuke raised his hands and slapped them against the tile, hard. His palms stung and he did it again and again. By god, he’d totally screwed up. Why couldn’t he have realized months ago that he needed to take this thing with Makoto very seriously. Now he was on the verge of losing the man he loved and he was losing his mind.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t lose Makoto. Not when he’d finally figured out how much he needed him. Makoto had been leagues beyond what Sousuke had ever deserved, and yet when he’d had Makoto, he’d treated their relationship with such frivolity. How had he been so blind, so stupid?

What could he do? How was he supposed to apologize for the years Makoto had spent alone and suffered because of him? He’d left without a single glance back and Makoto had carried his pain with him everywhere he went. No, maybe even that was thinking too highly of himself, but god, he’d done something so foolish in letting Makoto go.

Sousuke sank to the shower floor and sobbed. His whole body shook with pent up frustrations and anger and a sadness he couldn’t hope to overcome with the way he was now. There was a gaping wound in his heart and he himself was the cause of it. There was no one to blame but himself, and yet he was selfish, and he wanted Makoto back. He cried for the wasted years and the pain Makoto had suffered. He cried for the man he’d known before and who Makoto was today. He cried for the time he’d missed in between. The dreams he’d chased, everything he’d worked so hard for, had all crumbled apart and he wondered how different it would have all been if he had never left. He didn’t give a damn about swimming or winning medals if he could just be by Makoto’s side and watch _him_ swim. God, he’d been so beautiful in the water. The true talent was lost when Makoto had stopped swimming. Sousuke could be done without, but Makoto... Makoto was needed.

“I’m sorry, Makoto,” he sobbed as the shower washed over him. “I’m so sorry!” He pounded on the tile floor as his heart tore apart in agony. “I’m sorry I’m so selfish, but I won’t let him have you. I can’t. Don’t you... belong with me?”

Sousuke sank back on his ass and fell against the wall behind him, sobs shaking his chest. His body felt big and useless. What had he accomplished with it? Behind him was a trail of broken, beautiful things.

“What am I supposed to do? Tell me what I should do. Because I want you so badly...” He sniveled and let out an anguished cry. “I want... to be yours.”

The water started running cold, and still Sousuke sat there. His skin rose in goosebumps but he couldn’t move as he wondered what he should have done differently. So many times he chose the wrong thing; there were so many ways he could have mended this before now, but he’d been such a damn fool.

It wasn’t until Seijuro knocked on the shower room door that Sousuke picked himself up and hobbled back to the bench to get dressed. Golden eyes watched him as he walked past the office, but Sousuke couldn’t meet Seijuro’s eyes, knowing the man had been so right, knowing that he got to go home to Makoto tonight.

Sousuke wondered if he could make himself into a man Makoto deserved; right now, Makoto had much better candidates to choose from. Sousuke had never felt more motivated to do anything, but he’d also never felt so lost on where to even start. He gave a weepy hiccup and shuffled his sorry ass home.

x

Matsumoto beamed from ear to ear as he watched Makoto shyly make his way over. He was wearing a white lace-y babydoll top and small, lined, lace shorts. The light behind his hair made it look like he had a halo, though it wasn’t hard for Raphael to imagine anyways.

Makoto slipped up to his side where he stood waiting against the bar, and the blond smiled. Under long lashes, Makoto looked up and whispered Raphael’s name in that adorable way he had.

“I want to kiss you so badly, _mon petit ange_ ,” Matsumoto breathed out, voice strained with desire. He reached out and slipped his fingers into Makoto’s hand, lifting it to kiss as they’d grown accustomed to doing now. Matsumoto watched happily as Makoto’s cheeks rosed up, and he held Makoto’s palm to his lips. “How are you doing today?”

“Good,” Makoto whispered. “Better now,” he added with a shy smile as he looked up with his gem-like green eyes. He looked to be glowing, and Matsumoto could only hope he was part of the reason why.

“Oh, you’re too sweet to me, _mon chéri_.”

Makoto shook his head and smiled. “I have to go dance in a minute.” He glanced to the left and added softly, “Are you... gonna stay?”

“Do you want me to?” Green eyes flicked up once again, and Matsumoto reassured Makoto. “I mean, I will anyways, but I was hoping you’d like me to stay.”

Makoto blushed and breathed out in a sweet voice, “Yes, I’d like you to.”

“Oh, good,” whispered Matsumoto with a smile. Then he looked around quickly before raising fingers to Makoto’s waist. “You’ll be gorgeous, as always. I’ll blow you kisses from the audience.”

Makoto shivered as Matsumoto’s fingertips slid over sensitive skin, eyelids fluttering. He bit at his lip. “Just thinking about that...” He stopped there, but when he looked up, his eyes were filled with so much heated desire that it swayed Matsumoto.

“I have to go,” he whispered when Kisumi waved at him from the doorway. He waved at Matsumoto as he ran off, gone all too soon. Behind him, Matsumoto could hear Rei cleaning a glass.

“He’s been happier,” Rei said calmly. “I assume you’re the one to thank.” 

Matsumoto turned and gave the man a big smile. “I sure hope so.”


	22. The Healing Comes in Waves

The wind was bitterly cold, and it was really drafty on the third landing of the apartment complex Sousuke sat on. The door he was leaning against behind him was too hard to be comfortable. Sousuke had thought for days on end how he could make things right and all his little brain could come up with was to get down on his hands and knees and beg Makoto to forgive him. The only problem was that Makoto didn’t want to see him; Seijuro was good at helping him with that too. It had taken everything in him to even get Seijuro’s address out of Rin, who had been a little less begrudging towards Sousuke lately. When the dark haired man had explained what he was going to do, Rin had sighed and given up the information.

“It’ll be hard. Don’t you dare quit and say it’s too hard, not when it comes to Makoto’s heart.”

“I swear,” Sousuke had whispered earnestly. He couldn’t tell the man about his sleepless nights or his crying in the shower. Makoto had invaded every part of Sousuke’s life, and his head was filled with too many messy thoughts regarding the man.

Rin had sat in silence for a while, but finally he’d remarked quietly, “You’ve changed, Sou. I hated you when you came back, you know, but you’re becoming someone better now than who you were three years ago, and I like it.”

“I wish it was enough,” Sousuke lamented as he’d gripped the front of his hair in his fist, in agony over his choices.

Rin had nodded, quiet again, until he said, “Me, too.”

Sousuke had rubbed at his eyes; he had so many things he wanted to ask, but he doubted even Rin would know the answers. Things like, did Makoto miss him? Would it be better if he just left him alone? Could he even do that?

“I screwed up so badly.” Sousuke had hidden his face in the crook of his arm to hide the wetness in his eyes and the way his lips trembled. “I wish... I wish I could turn back time. I would treasure him; I would do anything to make him happy. He tried so hard for me; he loved me far beyond what I deserved. I was such an asshole to that precious creature.”

A heavy hand had descended to rest on his head, Rin accepting his words in silence, nothing to add or say in response. He’d said his piece; Sousuke was finally starting to realize what everyone had been trying to tell him all along. “Thanks,” he’d mumbled, wishing the pain in his heart could be resolved so easily.

He sat now, knees pulled up, face pressed into his folded arms. The cup of hot coffee he’d had two hours ago had long gone cold. It was only fall, but it was frigid at night in Tokyo. Inside the apartment, he could hear the sounds of the TV, Seijuro laughing. He’d knocked when he’d first gotten there; they’d known he’d come, and they knew he was still there because he’d knocked every half hour the first two hours he’d been there. He knew they wouldn’t answer the door, but he needed them both to know he was committed this time. He wished he’d brought a blanket. He fell asleep, his nose and fingers frozen stiff, footsteps and soft voices from through the door soothing him softly.

When he woke up again, early morning, he felt warmer. A blanket had been tucked around him, and a granola bar and thermos sat by his side. Was it Makoto, or had Seijuro brought this stuff out on Makoto’s insistence? He couldn’t imagine Seijuro feeling at all bad for the man. Sousuke pulled the blanket tighter and tried to sleep again; Makoto haunted his dreams and he slept fitfully.

The next time he woke up, it was rudely. Seijuro stood over him in the doorway, wearing a dark expression.

“Go home,” he said as he shut the door again, pushing Sousuke back up to sitting. The moment of feeling the air from the apartment on his skin made him remember how cold he was. He shivered, but he shook his head.

“I want to talk to Makoto. I need to apologize.”

“You’ve already done enough damage,” Seijuro hushed fiercely, eyes narrowing. He held out a hand for Sousuke to at least help him up but Sousuke batted it away.

“I’m trying to fix what I’ve done the best way I know how. Unless you want to give me some better ways, I’m going to stay here for as long as it takes.”

“This is bordering on abuse,” Seijuro growled. “You know-“

“I won’t talk to Makoto unless he wants to speak to me. He can leave if he wants to; I won’t bother him. But if he wants to talk, I want to be here...”

Seijuro sighed wearily, rubbing at his temples. “Please go home... You’ll get sick and then Makoto will feel bad...”

“That’s not my intention-“

“I know!” Another sigh. “I know that... God, do whatever you want. I told Makoto to stay inside until I get home.”

“Okay,” whispered Sousuke quietly, though Seijuro looked doubtful that he would still be there when he got back, that his resolve was that strong.

“Can you tell him I said thank you for the blanket and food?”

Seijuro was already walking away. “If you last, tell him yourself. I won’t accept half-heartedness, so let’s see what you’ve got.” He gave a short wave over his shoulder. Sousuke scratched at his chin and hunkered down.

He knew Seijuro found him a nuisance. Maybe even Makoto did. Maybe this was completely selfish, a way to make himself feel better in the end, but he wanted to do this; at the very least, for better closure. When he compared himself to Raphael, he knew he was nothing of value, but his heart had grown a lot, and he wanted to prove that, at the very least, he loved Makoto more than anyone else. He felt he did; he was very sure he did, but it was hard to know for sure when he was trying to prepare himself for the heartbreak that might surely come in the end. He couldn’t let himself explore the full depth of his feelings, in case it really was a bottomless pit. He pulled out his phone and added a few more things to his growing list of things to apologize for.

He watched the sun slowly climb in the sky. He listened to the footsteps from inside. He waited.

x

Makoto had been pacing the floor since he’d gotten out of bed. He’d barely slept. Three in the morning had found him pushing Seijuro awake with a thermos, some snacks, and their heaviest blanket in his arms.

“Please, I’m so worried about that idiot. He’s still out there.”

Seijuro had grumbled and climbed slowly off the couch.

“You can sleep in the bed when you come back; just, please,” Makoto promised.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Seijuro grumbled as he trudged, half-asleep, to the door. Makoto had set himself down on the couch, pulling Seijuro’s blanket around himself and Peanut to his chest.

“It’s not about it meaning anything. I just feel so bad for him...” Makoto hushed to himself. In his mind, he’d gone back and forth, back and forth. Sousuke had changed in so many ways. He was terrifying like Kai had been, but Kai had also never looked at him with such sad eyes. But did it matter who it was sitting outside when Makoto had a bleeding heart made of rice paper? If Sousuke got sick, he’d never forgive himself. It wasn’t about Sousuke; it was about what Makoto had to do for someone who needed him. And yet he couldn’t bring himself now to walk outside and listen to the man. Seijuro had told him to stay inside, but more than anything, it was fear that still rooted him. Sousuke had been unrecognizable when he’d pushed Seijuro at the club. Makoto hadn’t known him when he was on the floor at the aquatic center, yelling his name.

He couldn’t get it out of his head; what had he done wrong?

Every half hour or so, Makoto would shuffle up to the front door and peer out of the peephole, or sit and listen. By now, his guilt was absolutely eating him up alive. He called the small cafe down the street to order delivery to his front door: soup, coffee, and an apple. He still remembered Sousuke’s favorites even now, but that didn’t really matter, did it?

“Haru, he’s still there,” Makoto whispered into the receiver of his phone. Haru was silent on the other end. “I don’t... I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“You’re not supposed to do anything. If he has issues, he has to learn to resolve them within himself. He had his chance with you already.”

Makoto twisted his lips and wondered if he believed that was true. His heart trembled with sadness in his chest. What had he really lost when Sousuke had left him? He was only sure that an apology had never felt like enough. Even if he wanted to forgive Sousuke, he couldn’t. Did he blame him for things out of his control, too? Rationally, he knew Kai and his parents weren’t Sousuke’s fault, but fear made it harder to draw the line that separated the events. Sousuke had really terrified him...

But what was more terrifying than anything was the man who was sitting in front of his door right now; he was unpredictable, unreadable. He _petrified_ Makoto, because what if this was the sincerity he’d been waiting so long for? What if this was it? It scared him so badly, because he’d never dared to even hope, had always pushed it down and away. He’d forgotten how to believe things could get better between them. They’d never be the same, god knows, but the what if’s he’d denied for so long were knocking at his door and sitting on his doorstep. Makoto sank down against the door again and pressed his cheek to the cool metal. Just on the other side was Sousuke. Was he warm? Was he hungry? Would he be happy with the food?

Would he... leave...? Makoto bit his lip in fear. What scared him more now, he didn’t even know anymore. He let the thoughts ruminate and fester, unanswered.

“What?”

Sousuke’s voice jerked Makoto’s eyes open. He pressed his ear to the door. “For me? Oh, let me get my wallet-“

A muffled voice spoke down to Sousuke, and finally, all he whispered was the softest, “Oh.” There was so much emotion in that one little word, emotion that Makoto had wanted from Sousuke for ages. It broke Makoto’s heart to hear it now. He felt bitter; he wished he could have had this so much sooner, from the beginning, or before his heart started growing cold and numb. Sousuke, the big, dumb idiot, felt things that were real and true, but now they were miles apart even as they were just on the other side of the door from each other.

Makoto listened to Sousuke eat, listened to him call a soft thank you. He clutched his hand over his mouth and let the tears fall, thinking of what could have been if Sousuke had cared this much four years ago.

Mon ange, _my beauty, are you okay? You’ve been so quiet._

Peanut Butter snored softly in Makoto’s lap, and he petted her mindlessly as he stared at his phone, not even sure what to say. Raphael had made him so unbelievably happy, but right now, his mind was full of only Sousuke. Everything he thought to type was about Sousuke; he wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. He wasn’t ready for any conversation about his past; he had no closure. He felt lost.

 _I miss you_ , he typed in the end, because he meant it.

_My sweet, I miss you more than words can say. But... are you doing okay? Do you need me to come?_

Makoto pulled Peanut up to his face and cried. What was the point of all of this? What would be the end result? Were they just dragging out their heartache, making it worse and worse, or was any of this making anything better? He didn’t know the answers.

_You don’t have to come. Focus on your practice._

A few minutes passed, a soft notification popping up that Raphael had sent a video. Makoto pressed play with a shaky finger.

“My sweetest love, you seem sad, and yet you’re always encouraging me so kindly. I will be here when you want to talk. I miss you so terribly that my heart hurts. Let me hug you for a long time the next time I see you, okay? I love you. Don’t change.”

Makoto pressed his phone to his heart and bit down on his shaky lip. It was quiet outside.

“Makoto?” He had to slap a hand over his mouth to not let out a pitiful sound at Sousuke’s sad voice. “Makoto? Are you there?”

The big body against the door outside shifted, and his voice sounded a little closer when he spoke again. “I’m sorry. I know I’m a bother. I’ll leave if you tell me to, but I will stay if there’s even the slightest hope that you’ll let me...” A heavy sigh, Sousuke shifting again. “I just want to say I’m sorry and selfishly explain myself to you. Well, I have no excuses, and maybe this isn’t the right thing for me to do...”

“Sorry...”

Makoto pulled himself up and walked back inside the apartment, Peanut Butter hugged to his chest, the cat purring against his neck.

“What should I do?” he whispered to the Persian. Golden eyes stared back at him; Peanut had no advice to offer, and Makoto didn’t know much better either.

x

A shadow fell over Sousuke, and he slowly turned and opened his eyes. The cold had frozen up his tears, and it hurt a little to pull them open again.

A weary sigh settled over Sousuke, and Haru bent down to pick up the bits and pieces of Sousuke’s lunch. He’d tried to clean up as best as he could, but he had nowhere to take his trash. Haru silently walked it downstairs to the trash cans, back a few minutes later. He settled down opposite Sousuke, his back against the railing that faced the street below. His blue eyes didn’t leave Sousuke’s face.

“Makoto told me you were here.”

Sousuke didn’t respond. The blanket had fallen off his shoulders, and he wiped at his mouth, conscious of food scraps left behind. The breeze cooled his warmed skin cruelly.

“What are you hoping to accomplish with this?”

Seijuro turned his eyes away and gave a weak, little shrug. He wasn’t sure if he himself knew. “It was all I could think to do...” he mumbled into the shoulder of his jacket.

“No one knows what to do with you. Rin can’t tell if he should still be angry at you or let it go. Can you tell me that you’ve changed enough to be sitting here?”

“I don’t know, but if I’m not good enough now, I want to keep working at it until I am. I need to make my own steps forward, and this is the only way I know how.”

Haru rubbed his face with his hands and sighed again. “Are you here because you need Makoto to absolve you so you can feel better, or because Makoto is who you want with you as you get better?”

“Yes,” Sousuke whispered fiercely. “I need him by my side, with me. No- that sounds bad. I can become a better person by myself, but I want to do it for him. There’s no meaning behind it if it’s not about my feelings for Makoto. That’s the only reason I’m here now. Because I love... him...”

His voice hitched and he fell silent. Haru just watched him. How could he articulate that Makoto made him want to be a better person, and that was why he wanted the man to be there, to see how he was changing Sousuke?

“Makoto has someone who makes him happy. This cannot be about jealousy, or self-pity. I swear to god, if this is for your own self-serving good-“

“No! No. I’m happy... for him... but I’m so sad too. I can’t stop thinking about... if it had been me to make him happy...”

“There’s too much that happened for you to think that way. It’s selfish to think you could have changed so much.” Haru’s face twisted. “And yet I can’t help but think that you really were the cause of so much of Makoto’s heart break.”

Silence settled over them like a wet blanket. Sousuke felt the weight of the words Haru said; he felt the same. Was he selfish or was he right? Was he doing this for his own reasons or to really make things better for everyone? He wanted to believe his motives were pure, but everything that had happened, the distance between them, muddied everything and made it hard to see the truth. Sousuke clutched at his chest.

“I want to believe that I’m doing this for the best reasons I can. I just don’t know what that looks like in actions. I’m just... here, Haru. I just want to be here right now. It’s as close as I can be to him, and so this is where I want to be.”

Haru turned away and stared off into the sky, quiet. His hands shifted over his elbows as he hugged his knees.

“Maybe that’s the best reason you could have for being here.”

Sousuke heart leapt in his chest. He stared at Haru with wide eyes, watched as he stood up and dusted off his rump.

“Maybe that alone is enough. I don’t know if I should really be rooting for you, but good luck.” Blue eyes shifted back to Sousuke. “If that’s truly your reason for being here, then that’s enough.”

He slowly turned, but he didn’t walk away just yet. He had more to say; Sousuke could tell it in the way he was so still.

“Rin is not the only one who was angry with you for a very long time,” Haru began quietly. “I’m still not sure how I feel about you being here. Makoto is my best friend. He has always been my heart and soul. He’s never done a single thing wrong in his life, and yet he’s been hurt more times than should ever be fair.”

Sousuke dipped his head, ears turning red. He knew, god, he knew...

“But I can’t blame it all on you. You started a bad cycle, but everything that resulted from the cycle wasn’t your fault. I won’t be so cruel as to make you shoulder all of that. I think Rin did for a long time, though. He blamed you for everything for a very long time.”

“That’s okay,” whispered Sousuke. Rin had every right to think that way. Sousuke couldn’t be upset about his feelings; they were legitimate, and they were his honesty.

Haru clenched his hands together and fiddled slowly with his fingers. “I just want Makoto to be happy. I don’t know if it’s possible, but he deserves it. He deserves every happiness. I’m... allowing you to try to be a part of that. I hope you understand what that means.”

Sousuke nodded heavily. It was the heaviest yoke to carry; he wasn’t sure if he deserved it. But he had to take it; he had to.

“I want nothing more than to try to be at least a small part of that,” he whispered, and Haru nodded stiffly, his lips tight.

“Please do this right,” he whispered fiercely. “You only get this one chance now. Even this is generous.”

“Yes,” Sousuke whispered. He knew all too well. “Thank you,” he hushed.

“Don’t thank me,” Haru sighed, glancing up at the door behind Sousuke. His eyes were far away. Sousuke glanced over his shoulder, but the door was still the same as ever, shut, cold.

Haru walked away with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Sousuke didn’t know if there was anything left to say. It was a lot to chew. He leaned against the door jamb and shut his eyes.

x

The knocking came softly, at first, and then a little more insistent. Makoto didn’t move until he heard Seijuro call his name, his keys sliding into the lock of the front door. It pushed open, creaking until it was gaping all the way open. Seijuro held his keys in one hand, a bundle of jacket with a person inside in the other. He grunted and tossed Sousuke inside, stepping in heavily and shutting the door behind him.

“The idiot was still out there. He had icicles growing on his nose.”

It was an exaggeration, but Sousuke’s nose was beet red. He kept his head lowered, and Makoto’s heart slammed against his rib cage in worry.

“Is he okay?” he asked breathlessly.

“He’s alive,” gruffed Seijuro as he pushed his boot against the other’s gut. Sousuke gave a small grunt, rolling to his knees, forehead pressed to the cold tile below him. His hands folded together in front of his head. Makoto couldn’t figure out what was happening until Sousuke’s broken, cracked voice filled the small entryway.

“For all of the horrid things I’ve done, knowing well that this will never be enough, I am so, so sorry, Makoto.”

Makoto blinked down at the top of Sousuke’s bowed head, then up at Seijuro, who sighed and shuffled into the apartment, shedding his coat and shoes. But Sousuke didn’t move, and Makoto couldn’t, either. Seijuro stepped past him and scooped up Makoto’s cat, who was watching the whole scene very warily, paws spread, ready for anything. The Persian complained softly, worried for the brunet. Makoto stood in silence for a very long time, not knowing what to do, frozen. Sousuke was silent, too. He hadn’t spoken since Seijuro had first dragged him in and he’d apologized. Minutes ticked past slowly.

Carefully, Makoto sank down to his butt, the cold of the tile biting through his sweat pants. His sweater was actually Seijuro’s and it was too big, sleeves rolled up and the bottom dragging over his butt. He hugged his knees, his eyes never leaving Sousuke.

“Sou...” Makoto called quietly, but the other didn’t lift his head. Slowly, Makoto rose again and stepped carefully over to Seijuro, grabbing at his arm, unsure of what to do, uneasy. Seijuro slid his arm around Makoto’s waist and held him, handing Peanut Butter over to the brunet. The cat purred and cuddled into Makoto’s neck.

“Sousuke, get up,” Seijuro demanded coldly. Sousuke rose like a robot, quiet, head bowed. Seijuro sighed. “Tell Makoto why you were mad. He thinks you’re angry at him. I’m sure he’s thought of a million reasons why.”

Sousuke‘s head jerked up and his aqua eyes went wide. He stared at Makoto with this look on his face that broke Makoto’s heart. “No,” he whispered like the world was falling apart around him. “Not at you. I’m not mad at you. Never. I could never...”

The redhead leaned his head down towards Makoto, eyes watching Sousuke the whole time. Aqua eyes followed his movements, watched him nuzzle his nose into Makoto’s hair.

“Are you okay?” murmured Seijuro to Makoto in soft, worried tones. Makoto was staring at Sousuke like he couldn’t process anything so far, but he slowly nodded and turned to look up at the redhead. Sousuke didn’t make a move, his face never changed as he watched them, but Seijuro saw the slight tensing in his folded hands. His gold eyes shifted to Makoto and he softly rubbed his scarred cheek. Makoto was close, and his green eyes were clear, beautiful, but confused.

With a sigh of giving in, Seijuro turned and gently pushed Makoto forward again, closer to Sousuke. “You should be thankful that I’m feeling helpful today. I don’t give a shit what happens to you, but I refuse to let this tear Makoto up anymore. Tell him properly.” And with that, he stalked into the kitchen, close enough to hear but out of sight.

Sousuke swallowed and slowly lowered his eyes to Makoto’s cheeks, to the scar on his pretty jawline. Guilt ate him up inside. He’d caused that scar too. There were too many things to count. Makoto was looking at him with those pretty green eyes, his cat pressed to his chest, a second pair of eyes watching Sousuke. Makoto watched Sousuke lift his hands and fiddle with his fingers, nervous for the first time Makoto had ever seen him.

“I was angry at Seijuro. I don’t know if I fully knew why at first, but I hated that he could speak to you so easily, that he was by your side at every moment. I was never angry at you at all-!” Beautiful aqua eyes as clear as a pool of water looked up at Makoto and he shivered softly; he could so clearly remember why he’d fallen in love with Sousuke in the first place.

“I was angry because I wanted that to be me.”

Makoto’s eyes shifted, unfocused, here and there on Sousuke’s face. He watched his serious face, watched it travel between so many emotions, as he tried to find the right words. Sousuke had never been good with words, but he was really, really trying this time. He didn’t want to mess this up; Makoto could see that, and it meant more than he could explain, but... This single moment was only a small drop in the ocean of everything that had happened between them, after him, until now. Was Makoto in love with Sousuke or was he in love with who he wanted Sousuke to be? Was it just because this man had been his first, had been his everything for those first few years? Makoto couldn’t make sense of his feelings any longer, and the longer he looked at Sousuke, the more unsure he became.

“I was never, ever mad at you. I’m sorry I made you think even for a moment... that I would hurt you...” Sousuke’s voice shivered, his eyes shifting nervously.

Makoto’s head dropped down, and he tried to focus his mind. “Seijuro... is my friend. Didn’t you think that treating him that way would... hurt me too?” Makoto looked up with sad eyes, begging for Sousuke to tell him what he wanted to hear. He wanted to see that Sousuke had really changed, but what would that mean for Makoto if he had, anyways? He bit at his lip.

Sousuke’s face fell so fast. He went pale, like he knew now that he should have realized that before. “Of course...” he whispered hoarsely to the space beyond Makoto’s head that he stared at. “I was so stupid...”

When his aqua eyes flitted back to Makoto’s, he felt his heart stutter. The look on Sousuke’s face was everything he’d ever wanted to see, but why was it that it only broke his heart now? “I’m so sorry, Makoto. I let my anger get the best of me. I am not proud of what I did, or who I’ve been up until now, but I want to change and be better. I can’t go on being stupid and hurting you.”

Makoto’s arms tightened around Peanut. “Is your reason for changing just because of me?” His voice was barely audible, but Sousuke was tuned into him like no other.

He was silent for a while as his eyes searched Makoto’s face. “I want to be... a better person,” he said slowly. “Just... that.”

Makoto’s breath slowly slipped between his lips, as he relaxed a little where he stood. He bent down for a moment, setting Peanut Butter down on the floor. He squatted there as the cat slowly approached Sousuke’s feet, sniffing, waiting to run away or defend at a moment’s notice, but Sousuke didn’t move. Makoto watched Peanut with sad eyes as she sniffed at Sousuke’s feet, up his leg. Slowly the man squatted down in front of Makoto, matching his posture. Peanut jerked back in surprise, but she stayed rooted, and when Sousuke held out his hand, the cat looked up at Makoto to gauge how she should respond.

“Change takes time,” whispered Makoto.

“So does mending wounds,” murmured Sousuke, and Makoto lifted his eyes to the other. There was such a heart-rendering earnestness in Sousuke’s voice that Makoto found himself letting out a sigh of relief, relaxing. Peanut Butter gave a purr and turned back to Sousuke, slowly rubbing up into his extended hand. Makoto gave a small smile as he watched Sousuke tenderly pet the cat. Makoto had always been the one fond of cats in their group, but Sousuke had never treated any of the strays Makoto fed badly. He was always sweet, and that, more than anything, spoke to the man he could be, the man Makoto had hoped he would become. But there was a lot of time that had passed between their high school days and now. Sousuke could have changed in that time, but someone had come along and twisted him up. Makoto wasn’t sure if he could fully blame Sousuke, but he did make the choice to let that person into his life. Makoto had maybe hoped that Sousuke would come back to him one day a better man, but he’d come back like he’d taken so many steps back from who he’d been before he left. It would take a lot of time and work, and Makoto couldn’t promise that he’d wait for Sousuke, that he could wait. He had someone who loved him now, who was sweet and tender and in all ways, perfect.

He couldn’t ignore Sousuke’s desire to change, but he knew he couldn’t let himself wait around, hope that he’d become who Makoto wished him to be, the best version of himself Makoto had always known he could be. He couldn’t do that, not again... The last time had nearly broken him to pieces.

“You can’t change just for me,” he whispered. He looked into Sousuke’s eyes, wondered if he understood without having to say it.

Sousuke slowly sat down and Peanut crawled cautiously into his lap. He kept rubbing under the cat’s chin, across her back. Slowly she began to purr, and Makoto sank down again to his ass.

“I can’t ask you to wait for me, I know that. I know how cruel that would be,” Sousuke spoke quietly. “I know you waited for me for a long time already...” He flushed and stuttered, “I mean... I don’t want to presume-“

“I did wait for you,” said Makoto stiffly. Hurt was rising up again, but he didn’t want to cry, not now when Sousuke had things to say, when they were finally cleaning out and patching up old, festering wounds.

Sousuke released a long, slow breath. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he stared at the cat in his lap. “I must have disappointed you so much when I came back, and you’d been waiting...”

“Yes.”

Makoto couldn’t look at Sousuke as his scar throbbed, as he remembered the hurt of seeing Sousuke with that woman.

“I was weak. I want to be stronger... and smarter. No, that sounds like an excuse. ...I’m sorry.”

Makoto nodded, acknowledging the apology without accepting it. He didn’t know if he could yet.

“I can’t wait for you again...” he whispered in a trembling voice. His hands shook as he clutched them together. He was dwelling on emotions that made him want to cry.

“I won’t ask you to-“ Sousuke promised, but Makoto interrupted him as he blurted out, “After all, I have Matsumoto now.”

Silence fell between them, so many words unspoken becoming very clear. In the silence was how hopefully Makoto had waited, how he’d dreamed they’d just get back together, that they’d magically be better. It carried Makoto’s breaking hope and his giving up. It carried his painful relationship and the one he was trying for now.

Sousuke slowly lowered his head, and he whispered, “Of course. I can’t ask you to wait for me.”

The silence stretched again, longer, quieter. Aqua eyes slowly looked up and waited for Makoto’s to meet his.

“Even if it doesn’t change anything, can I tell you how I feel about you?”

Slowly, cautiously, Makoto nodded, folding his arms around himself.

Sousuke rubbed his big hand across Peanut Butter’s back and quietly, he began to talk.

“When you first told me you liked me, I didn’t know how to respond. I hadn’t imagined you had those feelings. I didn’t even think it was possible between two guys, let alone that you had harbored those feelings for me all that time. But as your friend, I knew enough that I didn’t want to see you sad, I didn’t want to lose what we had, and I thought, foolishly, that maybe this was just going to be an extension of our friendship. I was such an idiot and I stepped into it too lightly. I took _you_ too lightly. I’m sorry.”

“But as time went on, and when I hurt my shoulder, I grew bitter towards you, and towards myself. I felt like I couldn’t live up to the expectations you had of our relationship, and of me. A lot of those expectations were self-imposed; I know that now. But back then, I thought that all you wanted was for me to swim, to compete, and the more I tried to work for that, the more I destroyed myself. And so, I had no words to say when I chose to leave, and I thought it was best if I didn’t say any at all. Maybe I expected you to wait for me, maybe I hoped you would forget. I was a coward, and I chose the easy way out. I’m sorry.”

Makoto shifted on his butt, trying his best to be quiet and listen to everything. He had his head pressed to his knees, trying not to cry as he listened. Sousuke’s words were tearing at badly stitched and crookedly healed wounds.

“When I met Ayame as my physical therapist, I think I was looking for an escape from you and the confusion I’d felt when we dated. She told me things that almost made your actions make sense, but it was just my own delusions and her easy way of lying that made me so convinced. When I thought of the pressure I’d thought I’d felt from you to succeed, it was easy to believe that all you’d wanted from me was to see me rise to fame and ride my coattails. When I thought of how much you’d told me you loved me when I felt I didn’t deserve it, it was easy for her to manipulate me into believing that you were just acting out a part to get yourself where you wanted to be by using me. But even though she was good at lying, I know I’m still to blame for believing any of the lies she told me. I’m so-“

Makoto looked up, frown etched deep in his face. “That’s not your fault,” he spat out, eyes wide. His core was shaking; the way Sousuke was apologizing for what she had done to him- it reminded Makoto too much of Kai, of himself. Seijuro and his friends had spent way too long trying to break him of apologizing for Kai. He couldn’t let Sousuke do the same thing. “She was toxic. She was good at her game. You... cannot... take any responsibility for that.”

“Neither can I take responsibility for the things Kai made me believe and do.” Big, green eyes stared at Sousuke, begging him to understand. _It’s not your fault. This thing wasn’t your fault._

“I was still stupid to believe it-“

“No, she preyed on your vulnerabilities.” Makoto’s lips pressed tightly together. “Do you blame me for what happened with Kai?”

“No!” Sousuke’s eyes went wide and he shook his head. “Never! He was a bastard!”

Makoto sighed softly and smiled quietly. “Then please don’t blame yourself for what happened with Ayame.”

Silence settled around them again, Sousuke working through his own emotions. Makoto could see it on his face, the way his lips twisted and relaxed, his mouth bunching up and then sinking to a frown.

“When she hurt you, I couldn’t forgive myself. I let that poison into all of our lives. I blame myself for letting her touch you. I can never ask you to forgive me for that, but I sincerely apologize with all of my being.”

“It’s not your fault,” Makoto whispered back, voice on the edge of tears, as he rubbed softly at his scar. He raised his green eyes again and said in a broken voice, “I don’t want you to see her every time you look at me. I don’t want you to associate my face with the feelings you hold for her...”

Sousuke’s face went pale again, realizing he’d done it wrong again. He hated that he couldn’t think properly about things and how they affected others. Makoto frowned, shook his head. They were both blaming themselves for things out of their control.

“When I saw you again,” Sousuke continued, lips twisted into a frown, voice quiet. “I was so shocked. I had imagined you’d be gloating, living on your little hill of lies. That’s how Ayame had painted you to me. But you were so broken, so small, so scared. I hated... that you looked like that. I was so confused, because Ayame was telling me one thing, but what I saw in you was the opposite. She tried to tell me you were just trying to get my attention, to win my sympathy, but I saw that the life was gone from your eyes. I saw that you had given up.”

“I should have never let it get that far. I wish I’d known how she was treating you when I wasn’t there. I wish I could go back and stop her before she ever hurt you.” Shaking fingers reached out to touch Makoto, but Peanut Butter jumped up and hissed at him, and his hand froze inches from Makoto’s face. Green eyes stared at the outstretched hand, in longing, in fear. He slowly pulled back, eyes shifting to Sousuke’s face.

“Sorry. I lost the right to touch you a long time ago,” Sousuke said quietly with a nod. He dropped his hand to his empty lap now, Peanut Butter pacing between them. Makoto reached out for her, pulled her against his chest again. He couldn’t refute or agree with Sousuke’s words. He didn’t know either way, which was correct.

“I wished I’d realized a long time ago that you were the only one for me,” Sousuke said finally with a smile, his eyes sad. He wasn’t asking Makoto for anything, he was just being brutally honest, raw. For the first time in forever, he was honestly laid bare before Makoto. It was what Makoto had always wanted from Sousuke, but it felt bittersweet now.

“I wish I’d known back in high school that I would grow to love you this much. But I can’t go back and tell myself that; there was too much I had to learn and discover for myself. As much as I hate what happened between us, I think it’s the only thing that could have ever made me stop being so stupid and stubborn. With everything in me, I want to protect you. I want to see you be happy, even if it’s not with me, but at the same time, I will never be able to put away the longing I have for you. I hate that you belong to someone else. I hate that I’m not the one who can show my affections to you, to touch you, to sit by your side and just drink you in. I miss how easy our time together was back then. I miss it more than anything. I miss your friendship and your love. I miss your smile and the fond look in your gorgeous eyes. I know I have no right to any of those things anymore. I know you have every right to find your happiness elsewhere. But I will never stop hoping that one day, I’ll be allowed to be yours again.”

“I love you, Makoto.”

Aqua eyes watched Makoto, expecting nothing but for the brunet to hear his words. He looked so shockingly selfless. It made Makoto’s lips tremble up into a small, proud smile.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life becoming the best man I can be, and working to win you back. I’ll never stop pursuing you, until you tell me to stop. I won’t push you, but I’ll always be there, waiting. I love you.” A soft laugh, a little bit self-deprecating. “I’m deeply in love with you, and I can’t get over it.”

Sousuke was done talking, but now Makoto didn’t know what to say. How was he supposed to respond? How could he tell Sousuke that he wanted him to strive to be better, not for him, but for himself, for whoever he’d end up with in the future? How could he say that he was anxious for Sousuke to become that man, to fall in love with that man, but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t wait? How could he say that even though he had Raphael, he was sitting here so hopeful for Sousuke, still, forever... hopeful?

He shouldn’t wait for Sousuke, but wouldn’t he anyways? That, he definitely couldn’t say. Only time would prove if Sousuke would step up to the challenge at every turn and never back down... Makoto’s expectations for him were higher than they’d ever been, and that was not to mention all the time Sousuke would have to make up for. It seemed impossible, but when Makoto looked at Sousuke, he wondered if it was just false hope or if he saw the determination there to beat the odds.

Slowly, Makoto rose, Sousuke awkwardly standing again too. “Are you hungry?” Makoto asked.

“I won’t intrude any longer, unless you want me to.”

Makoto turned back to Sousuke, looking up at him. “There’s a lot that happened. I can’t even say we can start over with being friends. You can do what you want, whatever you need to do to change, but I can’t promise you anything at all. I can’t.. I won’t help you with this.”

“No. You shouldn’t, anyways. You’ve already given more than enough.”

Makoto gave a slow nod. Then he turned and said, “So you can stay for dinner or not, but don’t ask me to decide for you.”

“Okay,” whispered Sousuke. “I think I should head out, then.”

Makoto nodded, a little relieved. He couldn’t deal with Sousuke and Seijuro together, not right now.

“Be well, Makoto,” Sousuke murmured as he turned to the door. “Don’t ever change,” he said with a soft smile over his shoulder. “You’ve always been beautiful, and you’re even more so now.”

The door shut behind Sousuke, and Makoto felt the weight of everything settle on his soul. Sousuke had waited, he might have waited forever. He’d said what was in his heart with no sort of shyness or regret. He’d opened his heart for Makoto to see. These things were immeasurable to Makoto, who desired this more than anything: patience, honesty, unshakeable devotion.

Sousuke had given him a great gift, and Makoto had the responsibility to treasure it properly, to think and respond properly. But it wouldn’t be just that easy. There were things that Makoto himself had to heal from, things that had nothing to do with Sousuke. Both of them would have to take their own steps in their journey to the future, and only time would tell if or where their paths would meet again.

It was sad, but also healing. It was something that had been long awaited. Makoto walked into the kitchen, into Seijuro’s waiting arms. And finally, finally he cried.

He cried for losing Sousuke, for his parents, for friends along the way. He cried for the emotional scars Kai had left him with, the physical ones Ayame had inflicted. He cried for who he’d let himself become, and for who he was now. He cried for the unconditional love he received every day from his friends, from Raphael.

He cried because he wasn’t sure he deserved any of it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, Sousuke is such a sweet bean when he tries 😭💓💕


	23. Sweetness

Makoto sank down into waiting arms, dressed in small boxer briefs and an over-sized sweater that was once again not his own. This one belonged to Raphael, who was holding him now, who had cooked him another amazing dinner, who he would spend his first night with tonight. The man had been so wonderfully sweet when he’d invited Makoto to stay the night just a little earlier. It wasn’t planned, but Makoto liked that. It was easy for him, no stress. Raphael had dug out a sweater for him to sleep in, and Makoto had changed in the big bathroom with a quirky smile on his lips.

He hadn’t said a word yet of the conversation that still weighed heavy on his mind, and though the blond didn’t ask, Makoto knew he was aware something had happened. He intertwined his fingers with Makoto’s, and the brunet nervously played with the sleeve of Raphael’s knit sweater. Sweet kisses were pressed into his soft hair and against his face, until Makoto couldn’t stand to stay silent a moment longer.

“Sousuke came to see me last week.”

“Sou did?” Raphael asked as he shifted on the couch, pulling Makoto against his chest and cuddling him there. He stroked his thumb over Makoto’s palm.

“We dated back in high school... for a little while. And then he left to go to America for therapy on his shoulder.”

Raphael was quiet for a moment, finally whispering, “I didn’t know...”

Makoto was staring so hard at the pattern on the blond’s sweater that his eyes were crossing. In a tiny, shaky voice, he said, “He told me he still loves me.”

Now Raphael was really quiet, but it wasn’t the silence Makoto had expected. Raphael just pulled him closer, leaning over until they laid on the couch together. Raphael’s demeanor didn’t change; he didn’t grow distant like Makoto had feared. He didn’t try to hold on to Makoto tighter either. No, he was secure enough to just relax, to comfort Makoto instead of himself. Makoto wished he could be so sure of things like that.

“Did you dislike that he told you that?”

“No,” Makoto said honestly, eyes lifting up to the ceiling now, contemplating. “He’s never been honest with me like that before about his feelings. I always worried so much before, because he barely talked about what he felt, but when he told me what was on his mind... I don’t know, I felt relieved.”

He turned then and pressed his face to Raphael’s chest. “Are you going to ask me how I feel about him?”

“No,” said Raphael softly. “You can feel however you want. What I care about is knowing how you feel about me.” He lifted Makoto’s chin up and smiled at him.

“I like you,” Makoto whispered with a shy smile. “I really like you.”

“Say my name,” husked Raphael. 

“Raphaeru~”

The blond smiled and kissed soft lips. “As long as you call my name like that, anything else is fine. As long as you are happy and your heart isn’t burdened.”

It felt too easy; wouldn’t Raphael get worried or uneasy? Wasn’t it common to feel that way or was he the only one? But Makoto needed easy; he needed it so badly. Everything had been so hard for him the past three years. Even dating Sousuke back then had been hard. He didn’t regret it, but he still carried the scars it had left him with. He clung to Raphael; he wanted easy more than he cared to say.

Soft lips closed over his, Raphael tasting like the ice cream they’d shared. He was warm and solid, big enough to hold Makoto but not enough to overpower him or make him feel unsafe. Makoto pressed his hands against Raphael’s back and hugged the man to his chest. Warm hands slid inside his borrowed sweater and he shivered with desire.

“Tell me if it’s too soon,” Raphael husked.

“No,” quivered Makoto, his erection the truest sign that he wanted this.

“God, I’ve been longing to touch your soft skin and gorgeous body since I first saw you dance.”

Makoto shivered against warm lips as hands skirted over his back. It wasn’t the back he’d been so proud of in high school, but he was working on it; he wasn’t hideously starved anymore. With shaky arms, he raised himself up. Raphael gave him a surprised look, but then he adjusted and helped Makoto climb over him. Hands closed around the opposite sides of his sweater and Makoto tugged it slowly off. Blue eyes watched his every move, hands following the curve of Makoto’s body up, marveling. When the sweater was gone, Raphael sat up and hugged Makoto to his chest.

“ _Mon petit ange, comme tu es belle_ ,” Raphael husked into Makoto’s ear as his hands roamed over the man’s back. “You’re gorgeous.”

Without another word, Makoto was lifted up and carried to the bedroom, where Raphael’s spacious, silk-laden bed awaited. Makoto felt like royalty as he was laid out carefully on the rich, red sheets, and Raphael stepped back to admire the view, milky skin against deep red, Makoto’s hair splayed out. As Raphael ogled him, he undressed, and Makoto choked on a glob of spit when Raphael pulled his underwear off. My god, he was hung. Makoto’s eyes darted up to Raphael’s, wide. Was it all Frenchmen, or just him? Makoto let out a strangled, heated sound.

“Don’t worry about me tonight,” Raphael said with a sweet smile as he stroked himself, a little bit proud at Makoto’s reaction, but also recognizing his fear. “My pleasure will come from pleasing you.”

With that, he climbed onto the bed, his cock bobbing heavily, too big to really stand up even though he was completely hard, and he took Makoto’s knees in his hands. Those warm hands slid down his open thighs and under his ass, lifting him with a proud smile. Raphael’s eyes finally shifted down as he spread Makoto’s plump cheeks with his hands, kneading them appreciatively. His cock pressed hot against Makoto’s back, and he shivered as his cheeks were spread and hot breath coasted over his bits. When Raphael nuzzled against him, he shrieked. Laughter coasted over his cock and thigh.

“What are you going to do-?”

“Hush, _mon belle_. I will give you the love you deserve. Let me melt your body.”

His French romanticism was coming out again, but Makoto, a decent Japanese man, was burning with shame. Still, it was all forgotten the moment a hot tongue slithered over his tight entrance, and Makoto screamed in a mix of surprise and pleasure.

“You can be as loud as you want, too,” said Raphael with a smile on his face. He wanted to hear Makoto scream, he wanted to hear his voice in the throes of pleasure. Makoto didn’t know if he should be thrilled or feel ashamed as his voice carried all over the room.

With tender love and affection, paying attention to every detail and never growing weary, Raphael worked his tongue over and around and inside Makoto’s ass. He suckled on his balls and teased his shaft, but for the most part, he let Makoto really have it in his entrance. Ten minutes in and Makoto was sobbing and choking out broken parts of Raphael’s name, even more butchered now. Raphael drank it all up, his cock leaking against Makoto’s back as he rocked himself there. Once in a while, he would give a small groan too.

Very suddenly, it became too much for Makoto, and he cried and begged for the blond to stop. He reached up and gripped his fingers into soft, curly blond hair, but Raphael just smiled and hummed and kept going. His cock jerked in response every time Makoto tugged at his hair. With an overwhelming rush, his head going light, Makoto came all over his tummy, and Raphael gave a small grunt as the man’s ass squeezed around his tongue. Makoto went limp as a dead body after his orgasm had ravaged through him, and Raphael slowly lowered him down. He caressed lovingly at Makoto’s inner thighs, bending over him and grabbing himself in hand. Makoto watched with wide eyes and a cry of dismay as Raphael began to stroke himself as he lapped up Makoto’s spill like it was the best dessert. He watched as Raphael gave a soft grunt and came into his palm, tongue licking over red lips. When he sat up, he looked to be shining, beyond satisfied, but Makoto was too wrecked to complain. Raphael shuffled off to clean himself up, coming back to the bed in all of his naked glory. Makoto turned his head and stared up in a daze at the tall, muscular man before him, his slightly smaller cock now hanging limp between impressive thighs, a soft curl of blond hairs up to a belly button, chiseled abs and gorgeous pectorals. He had small, rosy nipples, and shoulders and arms to die for. But for all of his mass and brawn, he was so gentle. He pulled Makoto under the sheets and snuggled against him, bare skin touching, warmth transferred between them. Makoto closed his eyes and pressed his hot face into Raphael’s neck. He’d been so loud and cried Raphael’s name out so embarrassingly. Warm, strong arms circled around him and hugged him, a nose pressing into his hair as the French man inhaled his scent.

“Was it good?” he asked with a knowing smile, and Makoto lightly hit his chest.

“You already know.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Makoto shut his eyes, cheeks going bright red. “It was wonderful,” he husked against Raphael’s warm skin. The other man laughed delightedly and hugged Makoto tighter.

“I’m sure it will help you sleep better than you have been.”

Of course he’d noticed. Makoto sank gratefully into the soft bed and his boyfriend’s arms. Whether he deserved this or not was moot; he was so happy to have this man as his own. His eyes shut easily and in a moment, he was asleep.

Raphael smiled and kissed his hair.

“I don’t mind that he loves you, but I hope you’ll always choose me in the end...”

Still, his face shifted to worry. When Makoto couldn’t see it, he let his eyes go a little sad. He wondered if this was something he could really win in the end.

x

“This is unusual,” murmured Makoto as he made his way inside the club for work that night. As he walked through, the front was empty, but voices were coming from the back room. With wide eyes, Makoto picked up his pace and peeked his head around the corner of the door frame to the locker room. The sight he saw almost made him choke on his own spit.

Sousuke was knelt down on the ground in seiza, the boss of the club before him, scratching his chin. Everyone else stood around Sousuke in an ominous circle. Nagisa was the first one to spot Makoto, and he turned and gave a casual shrug, unlike the tense atmosphere in the room, and said, “Sousuke has asked to start working here.”

Makoto shot up straight and choked out, “Sousuke has-?”

At the sound of his voice, the man in question’s head shot around and aqua eyes took in Makoto. He sat up on the floor and turned his body towards Makoto, a look in his eyes that said he had so much to say.

“Umm,” whispered Makoto. “Can I talk to him... for a minute?”

Their boss shrugged and waved them off with a sigh, and Sousuke jumped to his feet and swiftly made his way to Makoto. The brunet grabbed his arm and dragged him out to the bar, to the corner where they wouldn’t be heard or seen. With wide eyes, he turned to Sousuke.

“What are you doing?!”

He wasn’t angry, really, he was just so confused. Sousuke knew what working here meant, and he really didn’t seem the type. Makoto tugged at his sweater and the lingerie he had on underneath. He swallowed and stared up at Sousuke with huge, round eyes.

“I want to be around you and get to know you again, and I want to be able to protect you-“ 

“Sousuke, this is a strip club!”

Aqua eyes blinked at him in confusion. “Yeah...” he said slowly. “I’m not here to be a stripper.”

The image of that alone made Makoto nearly burst a blood vessel in his nose. He clapped a hand over his mouth and tried to hide his blush. “What did you plan on doing here, then?” Makoto asked in disbelief.

“Whatever,” said Sousuke earnestly. “I’ll do whatever. I just want to be with you.” Makoto thought he might faint from the way his blood was rushing to and fro.

“You don’t have to do this!”

But Sousuke just smiled. “Well, I don’t really have anything better to do. They’ll probably not let me back on the Olympic team anytime soon, and I don’t have a lot of other skills.” He shrugged his big shoulders casually.

Makoto wondered if Sousuke would really stick it out. He couldn’t imagine him in the shorts and shirt he’d worn himself when he was a waiter. Would the boss put him behind the bar or make him a bouncer? They already had two people for those positions, though.

Sousuke took Makoto’s hands in his own as the man tried to straighten out his thoughts, and he smiled down at the brunet. It was like an arrow to the heart; Makoto couldn’t remember Sousuke ever looking at him so tenderly.

“I bet you’re thinking I won’t last, but I want to do this to prove I’ll do anything to be able to be around you. I’m very serious about this, Makoto. I hope you’ll give me your blessing...”

“No, that’s fine,” squeaked Makoto breathlessly. He didn’t know what else to say. This was not the Sousuke he’d known before. This man was a stranger. At least, he seemed like one, but Makoto felt like he was walking on egg shells simultaneously with the feeling of flying. He wondered if this change was real or only for show. His heart squeezed in his chest, but he refused to let it affect him like it would have before. “I told you you could do whatever you wanted.”

Sousuke pulled a face and whispered, “Still, it wouldn’t be a good idea to kiss you.”

“You want to do that-?!” Makoto asked, basically horrified. No, this was definitely not the old Sousuke, his ex-boyfriend.

“Yeah,” Sousuke said as he looked away and scratched his scalp. God, he was even blushing... Makoto couldn’t look but he couldn’t peel his eyes away either. “I mean, I’ve been wanting to for a while, actually.”

Makoto grabbed Sousuke’s arm and turned him, pushing at his back. “Do whatever you want!” he yelped as his face flushed red. He marched Sousuke back.

“Just give him a job!” he squeaked to their boss, who just shrugged again and handed Sousuke a uniform like he’d already been planning to hire Sousuke anyways.

“Try those on,” their boss said as he walked out of the locker room. Suddenly, a herd of hungry club workers descended, all impatient to see Sousuke try on his new uniform. Makoto backed himself away from the crowd, but he didn’t get far; Kisumi grabbed him by the waist and held him to his side with a sly grin. Makoto had to cover his face as Sousuke was stripped down to his boxers and hustled into black shorts and a white button-up.

“My god, you’re ripped! Can you even button the shirt?” Nagisa howled in delight, clapping his hands.

“Well, that’s pretty hot,” murmured Kisumi in approval.

Makoto couldn’t look, until he heard a voice call his name and ask, “Well, how do I look?” He squeaked in embarrassment and slowly peeled his fingers off his eyes.

The shirt didn’t fit at all. It was barely even buttoned at the bottom. Sousuke bulged out of the tiny thing at every point. The shorts weren’t much better, showing everything. His boxer briefs were longer than the shorts.

“I feel like my dick’s gonna pop out...” Sousuke huffed quietly as he tried to rearrange himself in the tiny shorts. 

Makoto let out a god-awful noise as Kisumi and Nagisa chimed up with a unison, “Well, this is a strip club, so that might be the point.”

At this point, Sousuke turned beet red and Makoto thought he’d call it quits then and there. But he just calmly peeled the shorts off his thick legs and took the shirt off. He pulled his own pants back on, regular dark jeans. “I think this will have to do for now,” he said calmly as he clipped the bow tie around his big neck, the cuffs around his wrists, struggling a little with his thick fingers. Makoto wanted to cry; it was evil, this whole thing. Sousuke was magnificent, his muscles doing most of the work. Kisumi walked up and mussed with Sousuke’s hair until it was messily styled.

“I mean, it’s not bad at all,” the pink-haired man said as he stepped back. “It’s not like he won’t get any tips even if he’s not in the uniform.”

Makoto wasn’t sure if he could handle this. He had to remind himself that Sousuke was a bad, bad man. But god, he was so gorgeous... He was, of course, exactly Makoto’s type, and the sexy get-up wasn’t helping at all. Suddenly he wondered if the real test would be whether he’d quit, not Sousuke. He turned stubbornly around and took a deep breath. Sousuke had always been attractive, Makoto reminded himself; the thing he needed now from the man was his change of heart.

Well, it had nothing to do with him anymore anyways...

He pulled open his locker and stared into the emptiness inside, at his tip jar, at the small umbrella and Seijuro’s hooded sweater that he’d taken to work one day and forgotten to take back home every day since. He’d never meant to make any sort of imprint here, but somehow these people here had become like family. Having Sousuke in the midst of that reminded him too much of... home. It made him ache in a very deep place that he rarely let see the sun. He clenched his fists; Sousuke didn’t even know. He was glad when Sousuke was hustled out by the other waiters and it was only Nagisa, Rei, and Kisumi left in the locker room.

“Are you okay with this, Makoto?” Rei asked slowly, sitting down on the bench behind Makoto. Slowly, Makoto pulled off his hoodie. Nobody blinked an eye at the soft pink bralette he wore and the matching pink panties that appeared as he stepped out of his jeans. Nagisa and Kisumi were already butt naked, too.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I told him he could do whatever he wanted to.”

“That’s dangerous permission to give a man like that,” Kisumi warned, and Makoto covered his face.

“I see that now,” he whispered, mortified. Nagisa jump-hugged him from behind, rubbing at his tummy to soothe him.

“It’ll be okay. Don’t worry about him. Honestly, he’s not cut out for this world.”

Makoto felt dread curl cold over his heart. “That’s what worries me that most...”

Kisumi leaned against his locker, tapping at his cheek as Nagisa looked around in confusion.

“You mean, if he stays, what does that say about how much he’s willing to do to prove to you...”

Makoto couldn’t even process it. Everything he’d known about Sousuke, even though he’d loved him, was that he was practical and at times cold. Makoto couldn’t remember if he’d ever made Sousuke smile, or if the man had ever given him a compliment back then. And yet he’d loved him so much, to his own ruin.

But he wanted to be done with that. He didn’t want to fall for any more men that would doom him. He’d had more than enough with Kai. He couldn’t do it again, and what if Sousuke hadn’t changed that much at all. Or maybe worse yet, what if he had, and Makoto would have to deal with that...

He clenched his hands against the cold metal of his locker and shut his eyes. His head rushed with too many thoughts, and he couldn’t focus. What kind of mess had he gotten himself into now? His heart couldn’t take this; he would have to harden himself. Slowly, he pulled out the black lace bodysuit he was to wear tonight, and slipped into it. When was the last time he’d been embarrassed to be seen like this? He didn’t know if he could step foot outside this room.

But Nagisa spun him around and grabbed his face with two small, warm hands, smooshing them, green eyes staring wetly down at the pretty blond in his pink, fluffy babydoll top and shorts.

“Makoto, you look as pretty as you always have. Out there are the same customers who’ve seen you a million times and are still begging for more. All that’s changed is Sousuke, and in the end, that’s not such a big deal, is it? I mean, I’m sure having Raphael here was more heart pounding for you.”

Makoto’s lips quirked up and he laughed. “That’s true,” he said even as he wondered if this wasn’t still more nerve-wracking. Still, he gathered himself together, pulling out his lace bunny ears and fluffy cotton tail. Kisumi slid an arm around his waist and crooned against his ear.

“Our prettiest little bunny,” he murmured seductively as he squeezed Makoto’s cheek. Nagisa giggled, delighted, and Rei grabbing him around the waist, probably a little jealous.

“Come on,” whispered Kisumi to Makoto as he nodded at the two love birds. Makoto shuffled into his shoes and Kisumi led him out, fingers intertwined together.

“You’ll be fine,” the other whispered when they were outside, looking over at Makoto. He gave him a smile, and Makoto felt like it really would be okay. When he spotted a familiar blond at the bar, he was sure everything would be okay. Raphael turned and watched him advance with love struck eyes. Warm hands surrounded him in a hug, and Makoto laughed.

“How were you already able to get in? We’re not even open yet!”

“Ahh, the bouncer recognized me as your boyfriend and let me in to see you,” Raphael grinned. He took Makoto’s hand in his own and kissed fingers he adored, smiling proudly. A hand slid next into Makoto’s hair and he was pulled down into a kiss. They laughed and joked for a moment, but Raphael’s went still when his eyes caught sight of something over Makoto’s shoulder.

“No way...” he muttered. “Is that... Sousuke?”

Makoto let out a little tremolo sigh. “Yeah?” he said like it was a question.

Raphael tossed his head back and burst out laughing. Makoto blinked at him in surprise. The Frenchman looked back up at Makoto and smirked wide, squeezing plump cheeks.

“Aren’t you worried?” asked Makoto with a confused frown. 

Raphael just shrugged. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” he asked confidently.

“Well, yeah,” Makoto replied back just as easily, which made the blond man smile.

Like it wasn’t anything to worry about at all, Raphael changed the subject just like that, rubbing a hooked finger over Makoto’s cheek. “You look so pretty, _mon ange._ A cute little bunny angel.” A finger flicked playfully at Makoto’s tail, trailing up next along the edge of the black lace stretched high over Makoto’s hip bone. “So pretty,” the other husked in a lower voice, and Makoto shivered.

“Don’t,” he begged, turning red. He’d get hard at this point, and this suit hid nothing.

Blue eyes shifted back over Makoto’s shoulder, watching something in the distance. When Makoto turned his head a little to look, he found Sousuke watching them, staring, his face expressionless. Makoto whipped his head back, his face going hot, tips of his ears turning red.

“Come over again this weekend. I want to do so many more things to you,” Raphael murmured seductively, his voice causing shivers to run down Makoto’s skin.

He was hot all over, flushed, a pleasant sensation bubbling up in his lower regions. He was breathing a little harder; if he wasn’t at work, he’d already be pulling his clothes off, kissing Raphael... “Okay,” he whispered back, voice too high to conceal anything. 

Raphael smiled proudly, teeth flashing white. He slowly shifted in his seat and pressed a hand slowly over the front of his jeans. He laughed heartily when his movement caught Makoto’s eye. “See what you’ve done, _vilain ange_.” His chuckle was like hot cocoa, velvety and smooth, warm.

“I have to start work soon!” Makoto whispered scoldingly at him, but the needy tremble in his voice made it sound weak. Raphael smiled again.

“I know, my sweet. Have a good shift. I’ll be watching from here.”

Makoto turned, still red, Raphael blowing him a kiss. Across the room, Sousuke was still watching. He turned slowly when Makoto noticed him, a sad look in his eyes. Makoto bit his lip. It wasn’t his fault; he just wanted to be happy. But still, his heart broke for Sousuke, and what he was trying so earnestly to do. But even if Makoto could eventually respond to his feelings, would he? Should he? He didn’t even know anymore. He let the questions fade away and let the night life carry him off. It was easier to not think too much about these things.

x

Rei chuckled as he leaned over the bar top, chin in his hands, enjoying the scene currently playing out in front of him.

Over the past few weeks, Sousuke had become increasingly popular with a very specific type of patron to the club, and he was currently caught by a group of very persistent, loyal customers. Gooey eyes stared up at him, lusty fingers hooking into the belt loops of Sousuke’s pants, tugging him closer. One of the ones closer to the edge of the booth where Sousuke stood was sitting on his knees on the padded seat, leaning forward on the table. He had curly brown hair and a flirty personality, and he’d latched onto Sousuke like no one could believe.

“Yamazaki-kun, why don’t you wear the shorts like the other waiters~?” crooned the brunet, his friend chiming up with a nod.

“I can just tell you’ve got the perfect legs for it.”

Sousuke, who looked highly uncomfortable, was shaking his hands and elegantly trying to dissuade the men, but no one would fall for that here. Hands raked over his legs, eyes going big and needy.

“Your legs are so thick~”

“Let me feel, let me feel!” cried a voice from the back of the booth, hands grabbing at Sousuke’s pants. Their boss had let him skip the shorts as long as he wore something else sexy, and leather pants, suggested by Kisumi, seemed to be working for Sousuke. It was hard to hide anything in them, and even Rei had to admit the man looked devilishly good. If the way he caught Makoto staring sometimes meant anything, he knew he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“What do you think?” murmured Rei with a happy lilt to his voice as he turned to Makoto with a crooked smile. The brunet was trying very hard to ignore what was happening, but he’d been the one to walk out here from the back. He was going on soon, but the commotion Sousuke was causing amongst the customers could be heard even at the back of the shop. Makoto pressed his lips together and declined to answer. Behind them, three men squealed as they got Sousuke’s pants button popped open. Rei didn’t miss the furtive glance towards Makoto’s direction as he hurriedly closed his pants up again.

“Yamazaki-kun, wear the shorts for us next time!”   
“You’ll look so good in them!”   
“One wouldn’t be able to resist you~”

Sousuke’s ears were bright red, but so were Makoto’s.

“Can I get a jack and coke?” hummed a gruff voice, pulling Rei’s attention from the scene at the table, but Makoto didn’t snap out of his little bubble. He didn’t even notice as the man leaned over to look at his face, smiling in recognition. “Well, what a surprise this is. Hey, cutie.”

Makoto’s eyes snapped to the man as a hand came up to caress his bare side, the man leaning back, inviting but not threatening. Still, Rei watched them.

“It’s not often you dancers are out here on the floor.”

Makoto shivered against soft, wandering fingers, his midriff exposed. He wore a leather get up today, shorts, and straps across his chest, but the crop top he had on wasn’t much help. Rei watched him turn red at the attention; the man himself wasn’t bad to look at either. He grinned like he knew it, hand starting to flatten against pale skin.

“You used to be a waiter, right? You look a lot different now. In a really good way.” His hand traveled down towards Makoto’s ass.

A shadow loomed over them and suddenly the man’s hand was up in the air, his smile turning wider. “This is not that kind of establishment,” uttered a dark voice. “Don’t touch him... please.” The last word was bitten off, an attempt at customer service.

Makoto gave a small gasp and turned to the man by his side now, holding the customer’s hand up high. “Sousuke-“ he whispered. The tall leather boots he wore made him a little taller than Sousuke, but still Makoto seemed to relent easily to the other man. His hands curled up against his chest and he relaxed, Sousuke’s hand gripping at the bar behind him, caging him in. Sousuke’s eyes were a roaring fire as he stared at the man, trying so hard not to lose his cool.

“Sousuke, let the man go,” Rei said calmly as he mixed another drink. Slowly, Sousuke obeyed. Without giving the man a second thought, he turned to Makoto and whispered urgently, “Are you okay?” The way his face instantly melted to softness made it so painfully obvious how he felt about Makoto. Even the brunet couldn’t miss it.

“It’s almost time,” Rei offered helpfully as he turned to another customer.

Sousuke paused, then gave a jerky nod in understanding. “Let’s get you to the back,” he hushed as he reached for Makoto’s arm, freezing just before he touched him. “Ah, after you...” he whispered timidly in the end. Rei wanted to kick him for losing his courage. Makoto just blinked and nodded, confused still by what had happened.

Sousuke followed close behind Makoto, almost herding him with the way his arms were out, leading Makoto to the back. Once they got to the locker room, Sousuke asked again, “Are you okay, Makoto?”

Makoto’s ears were burning, and he felt irritable for some reason. “I’m fine,” he snapped back, hands clenching. Why was he in such a foul mood? “It’s just part of the job...”

Sousuke was quiet for a moment, but then he whispered, “Did I fuck up again? You can tell me...” His hands rubbed over his legs like he was trying to figure out what was going on via the magic of his leather pants.

Makoto sighed, shaking his head. When he spoke again though, his voice was calmer and kinder again. He still wouldn’t look at Sousuke, though. “You did nothing wrong. I’m just tired...”

“Are you sleeping all right? Should I tell them you can’t go on?”

Makoto turned on his heels and sucked in his breath, pressing his fingers to Sousuke’s chest with a barely convincing smile. “I can still dance. I’m fine.”

A hand closed over Makoto’s before he could pull back, and Sousuke’s soft gaze pulled him in, forcing his guards down.

“Is Matsumoto treating you okay?”

Makoto turned beet red, smiling shyly, “Yes,” he squeaked out, looking at the floor. “He’s very kind to me.”

He didn’t see the way Sousuke’s eyes slowly travelled over his body, drinking him in, desperate to touch but holding back. Makoto was too caught up in thinking of Raphael, but Sousuke was trying to ignore that fact and just enjoy the uninterrupted view of Makoto he had right now. The other’s hand was smaller in his own than he remembered, but maybe he’d grown since high school. Makoto was more beautiful than ever, and it was hard, actually, for Sousuke to work here and see him like this every day. It was taking so much restraint for him to keep himself in line. He had to remind himself of the end goal every day, that he currently didn’t have the right to touch Makoto.

Nagisa popped his head into the room, breaking the moment for Sousuke, snapping Makoto out of his memories of Raphael. His eyes went wide when he realized Sousuke had been holding his hand the whole time. Sousuke slowly let him go.

“It’s time, Mako,” Nagisa chimed in his cheery voice, and Makoto gave a nod as he walked around Sousuke.

“Thank you,” he said as he passed the dark-haired man in his boots, and Sousuke watched him go with sad eyes. Raphael didn’t even know what he had. Well, he hadn’t either back then.

Sousuke walked back out on the floor, glad to see the group of men who’d been harassing him earlier gone. He picked up a few orders and moved amongst the tables to check on patrons. As the lights dimmed, Sousuke moved back to the bar. He sat heavily on a bar stool at the end, enough of a view of the stage to torture himself a little.

“Drink?” asked Rei as he walked up to where Sousuke sat, but the other waved him off with a sad smile. Rei considered it for a moment, turning to the stage to follow Sousuke’s line of sight. Makoto was just beginning his show.

“Don’t give up on him,” he said quietly, grabbing a bottle from the fridge by his feet. He moved back to the middle of the bar and went back to work, but his words rang around in Sousuke’s head. Inside him was this undying desire to hide Makoto, to protect him from everything, even lusty gazes. He hated, hated that Makoto had someone like Raphael; it made his own chances seem so slim, and some days he wondered why he was even trying so hard. But then he thought of Makoto’s smile, his glittering eyes, Makoto’s body when he danced... He was hypnotizing in every way, and Sousuke knew truly he would never, ever give up on the man.

A hand tapped on his shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts, and Sousuke was annoyed to see Seijuro beside him, but the man said nothing as he sat down on the next stool. Sousuke itched to start a fight with the other, but he bit his words back. Gold eyes turned to look at him, and Sei smiled. “I know that look on your face.”

“You know I have to play nice,” Sousuke frowned deeply. 

“Yeah, but I’m also not here to antagonize you today. Relax.”

Sousuke stood up and shook his head; he appreciated the offer, but he didn’t trust it. Still, he paused. “Tell me, why didn’t you ever try it with Makoto?”

Seijuro smiled down at the countertop he leaned against. “Even I can’t win up against what Makoto really wants,” he murmured softly.

“What does that-“ Sousuke started to ask, but then the music changed and Makoto began teasing out of his shirt and shorts.

“Those pants hide absolutely nothing, by the way,” Seijuro said with a smirk. Sousuke huffed and stormed off to the back. He barreled into the closest bathroom stall and pressed his head against the cool metal of the wall.

“Damn it,” he hushed, hand fisting in his hair. He let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Damn it, Makoto. You don’t even know how much I’m holding myself back. Can’t you just get it already...? I want to hold you so badly...”

Outside, Makoto’s performance faltered for a moment as a blur moved out of sight from the bar. He bent down and barely noticed the man tossing bills at him. Above the crowd, Seijuro caught his eyes. The man just gave a short shrug, and Makoto turned away.

He was happy, for once in his life he was so happy, and yet dirty little feelings crept up when he saw how Sousuke had gotten so popular, how the men clamored for him. He shouldn’t care; it shouldn’t matter. He told himself he just missed the direct attention that he himself had gotten when he worked Sou’s job.

That was... all it was. 

x 

“A little birdie may have told me it’s your birthday soon,” Raphael said as he wrapped Makoto in a hug from behind, lips teasing over the shell of Makoto’s ear in little kisses. Makoto blushed as he looked over his shoulder.

The moon reflected off the pool below it through sky-facing windows, the light dancing around the empty pool area. They sat at the edge of the pool. Makoto dragged his lower legs through the water and leaned back against his boyfriend’s bare chest behind him. Thick legs pressed against his own thighs, Raphael rocking a speedo tonight; it was nice and toasty in the aquatic center, even as the temperatures kept dipping outside.

“Who was it?” Makoto pouted like he was upset, turning to look at Raphael from the corner of his eye. The blond just grinned.

“I don’t reveal my sources. It’s the same person who sends me photos of you at the club.”

Makoto turned bright red, turning fully now in Raphael’s arms. The movement caused them to fall back, Makoto falling against the other’s chest. He lay there and pouted as Raphael laughed softly.

“You’re going to spoil me, aren’t you?” he murmured like he was unhappy about it. Sometimes it was still hard for him to swallow Raphael’s easy extravagance. Well, it still made him feel all kinds of special, and conflicted.

“Of course I am, _mon petit belle_. Why wouldn’t I? What an opportunity wasted that would be.”

“But you spoil me all the time...”

“It’s my privilege to,” husked Raphael sweetly, kissing Makoto’s crown as he hugged him. “Would you like to swim some more?”

“Yes,” Makoto said, pushing himself up. “Race me again.”

They both knew who was going to win, but every day Makoto got one step closer to his old self. He’d been training hard with both Seijuro and Raphael. He wanted to be able to stand on his own again, if he needed to, to be proud of himself again. To achieve what he could with his own body. Neither man had discouraged his desires at all, and for that he was thankful. Every day he was building muscle, building his body back, and he was proud of himself.

Raphael didn’t seem to mind either, running his palms constantly over Makoto’s body and skin. Now he grinned and sat up, teasingly lifting Makoto into the pool, tossing him as far as he could. He dove in behind his boyfriend and grabbed Makoto from below, lifting him up with powerful kicks at the water. Makoto yelped and laughed, grabbing at Raphael’s ripped shoulders. He shut his eyes and thought, ah, he was happy.

Swimming felt like it had before, fun, exhilarating. He hadn’t swam with Rin or Haru again yet; he wanted to get as good as he could first, at least get back to his last record in high school. But he ached to swim with his friends, with the people he’d grown up with in the pool. It was a special kind of thing he treasured that nothing else could touch. For Makoto, those days back then had meant the whole world to him. He loved Raphael and adored Seijuro, but neither of them could come close to those memories he held dear. It was different; it was simply different.

Still, he loved these times, swimming with Raphael or Seijuro, having them watch him, time him, coach him. Moments in the pool at night with Raphael were sometimes more romantic and meaningful to Makoto than a candlelit dinner at a fancy restaurant. Makoto would always find the pool to be his favorite place. Nothing could hurt him under the water, and the peace and quiet was unparalleled. He was panting hard after two laps, his chest burning pleasantly, but he sank into Raphael’s arms with a happy laugh.

“You’re really getting so much better, every day,” Raphael said to him, eyes shining with pride. Makoto smiled shyly; when was the last time someone had held so much pride for him? For these reasons, he loved Raphael. He needed him.

“Are you ready to get out and head home?” Raphael asked after a while of floating and cuddling in the warm water. Makoto gave a reluctant nod, but he was getting tired, and Seijuro was waiting, probably long finished with his paper work. Raphael climbed out and offered a hand down, but Makoto pulled himself out with a cheesy smile. A towel was tossed over his hair and Raphael laughed melodically in his ear. “Always wanting to show off whenever you can. I’m already in love with you, silly.”

“It feels good,” murmured Makoto happily. He grabbed the towel and ruffle-dried his hair, padding behind Raphael to the locker rooms. They changed and showered together, exchanging little kisses and sweet words. Makoto pulled on his hoodie and jacket, tucking his jeans loosely into his boots, and Raphael took his hand when he was dressed.

“Ahh, always so pretty,” Raphael mused as he ruffled Makoto’s semi-wet hair. His hood was pulled up, his hair messy beneath it, but sometimes Raphael loved him best like this, natural and soft. Makoto blushed and followed the blond out of the pool area.

Seijuro stood waiting, smiling knowingly, and Raphael bid Makoto a goodnight. They parted ways at the door with one last kiss, Raphael parting with his signature kiss to Makoto’s cheek. Seijuro stalked off ahead with a laugh, and Makoto hurried to catch up.

It barely registered, but it chilled him to the bone. Makoto’s head whipped around, but no one was there. The shadows were dark, and he strained his eyes, but he couldn’t make out any movement. He shivered against the cold air. Was it his imagination? He could swear he’d felt someone watching...


	24. Protect the Precious Things

Makoto sat on the bench in the locker room at work, pretending to fiddle with the outfit he was wearing, but in reality he was watching Sousuke get dressed for work. If Sousuke noticed, he didn’t act like it, and Makoto didn’t say a word as people milled around them, slowly getting ready and moving out into the main part of the club. Makoto rubbed at the glitter that had fallen on his legs. He was bare chested, wearing white cropped shorts, his shoulders covered in silver glitter, and on the bench beside him lay his white wings that he’d have to put on soon. Nagisa fluttered about in his own wings, and Kisumi was posing and taking selfies in front of the full-length mirror in a cheeky pair of lavender panties and iridescent wings. Tonight was a faux Victoria’s Secret night, which had been requested by many of their patrons. Makoto had picked out some cute panties to wear, but those were being saved for his dance later.

Makoto watched Sousuke from the corner of his eye, as he tugged shorts over his ample ass; they weren’t as short as Makoto’s had been, but he was still surprised to see Sousuke sporting them.

“Eh?” he muttered quietly as Sousuke’s ass did a little jiggle as the hem of the shorts finally pulled over his cheeks. Nagisa danced over and gave an cry of delight.

“You’re finally wearing the shorts?!”

“Ah,” said Sousuke in his deep voice. “Yeah.” Aqua eyes darted for a split second to Makoto, who was still trying to peel his eyes away from Sousuke’s ass and trying to forget how good his voice sounded. Nagisa was the only one who caught it, but he just smiled wickedly.

“You’ll get so many more tips now, I promise you,” the blond continued, crooning. “Everyone will be tripping over themselves to talk to you.” Nagisa slid into the space beside Makoto and nudged him. “Doesn’t Sousuke look so good in the shorts? I mean, just look at those legs... and his ass~” Nagisa clapped his hands and fawned over the tall male.

Makoto’s gaze snapped up to Sousuke, who was watching him out of the corner of his eye, waiting for his response. Green eyes whisked back to Nagisa as he turned red, but he couldn’t very well lie, not when Nagisa had laid out the truth of the matter very adequately. “Yeah,” Makoto choked out. Nagisa grinned and bounced back up to his feet.

“Good choice~” he chimed to Sousuke, smacking his ass with no shame, before bounding off to find Rei and show himself off.

Before Makoto knew it, he was the only one left in the locker room with Sousuke, who was taking a little too much time to get ready. Makoto blushed when he looked at Sousuke’s back out of the corner of his eye, only now realizing how slow he’d been moving on purpose. Sousuke picked up the container of body glitter that was designated for him, opening it but unsure how to proceed. He tried a few attempts at going in, shifting the container from one hand to another. Slowly, Makoto pulled himself to his feet and walked over, trying to hide his smile behind a frown.

“Would you like some help?” he murmured quietly, eyes lowered a little, hands crossed in front of himself. Sousuke’s chin jerked up, his earnest eyes too pretty to be real. Makoto felt a shiver slide down his spine. It was unfair how good Sousuke looked in nothing but shorts. He held his hand out and took the jar from Sousuke, looking up at his face with an awkward smile.

“You got a haircut,” he remarked, trying to act normal, but he wasn’t sure what that was anymore.

Sousuke ran a hand over the shaved parts at the sides and back of his head, grinning sheepishly. “I thought it was time for a change. I’ve got someone to impress now.”

Makoto let the words hang in the air, but he felt the impact of them. Why did a haircut matter? He wasn’t even sure himself. The rest of Sousuke’s hair was combed back; he looked really... nice. Makoto swallowed his hurt pride when he thought again of the attention Sousuke had been getting. He dug his hands into the cool glitter gel and reached a hand to Sousuke’s chest. He paused, suddenly unsure.

“Can I...?” he asked, confused. What had it been like when he’d just been friends with Sousuke? He couldn’t remember; how had he even acted back then?

“Yeah-!” Sousuke spread his hands wide like that would help Makoto, but the other did take a small step closer, concentrating on just spreading the glitter so it looked good, thicker at the shoulders and fading out to the chest. Makoto’s fingers slipped easily over mountainous pecs and muscles, trying to not drool all over himself. This close, his heart was racing being next to Sousuke. He hated it; he felt so self-conscious and awkward. Still, he rubbed more glitter on.

“Are you liking working here?” Makoto asked suddenly, shutting his eyes in a grimace at the way he’d spoken. Still, Sousuke smiled and nodded.

A thick finger reached up and hooked around a stray lock of brunet hair, folding it back into the rest of Makoto’s hair, his actions so tender. Makoto looked up with wide, green eyes, watching Sousuke as he smiled sweetly down at Makoto. “I like work, but getting to see you all the time is the best thing.”

Makoto’s hand froze and his cheeks turned bright red; he couldn’t look up. Sousuke’s finger slipped down his temple and across his scarred cheek, gentle, kind.

“To be honest, I was really hoping you’d like and notice my hair, my shorts...”

“Of course I noticed,” Makoto gruffed, sounding more irritated than he meant to. “So will everyone out there.”

Makoto bit his lips. He didn’t mean to take his frustrations out on Sousuke. He was just doing his job, but the problem was that he was doing it way too well.

Still, Sousuke grinned widely and sighed a happy, “I’m so glad.”

Makoto turned his face down to the floor and frowned, one hand messy with glitter and the other gripping the little tub it’d come in.

“Makoto,” Sousuke whispered softly. “Are my feelings being transmitted to you?”

Makoto frowned a little harder at the floor. God, of course they were, but that didn’t mean anything when he couldn’t possibly reciprocate them.

“You don’t have to respond; I just wanted to see you smile a little when you saw me working.”

Makoto rubbed at his eyes in frustration. Sousuke wasn’t even asking for that much, but Makoto felt like he couldn’t, shouldn’t... “You don’t have to try so hard. Not for me. Haven’t you tried finding someone else?”

Two big hands grabbed one of his, palms sliding warm together, and Sousuke leaned down enough for them to be eye level. “I’ve told you, there’s no one else for me but you. And I want to try hard. I need to. I want you to see that I want to be so much better for you. I don’t know how to do that very well, but I want to do my best...”

“You’re doing fine!” Makoto yelped, panicking. His eyes accidentally caught on Sousuke’s, and now he was stuck. God, if he could quantify the love he saw in Sousuke’s eyes, the number would never end. It wasn’t fair. Where was this Sousuke when Makoto’s life had been simpler, and he’d only ever loved one person, and he didn’t have baggage and anxieties and worries that overwhelmed him.

“I don’t want to do just fine,” Sousuke declared earnestly. He gripped Makoto’s hand.

Makoto pulled at his hand, and Sousuke reluctantly let it slip out of his own, dropping down to his side. Makoto clutched the jar of glitter to his chest. He had to finish his job, the sooner the better, and so he dug his fingers into the pot and demanded in a shaky voice that Sousuke turn around. A broad, strong back turned to face him and Makoto wasn’t sure if this was any better. With clammy hands, he spread the glitter as best as he could, until he finally capped the pot and let himself breathe. He let his fingers rest lightly on Sousuke’s back, silence stretching between them.

“You really don’t have to try so hard for me. Whatever happened with us is in the past.”

“I don’t want us to just be a thing of the past,” said Sousuke to the emptiness in front of him. “I want you, Makoto, so badly. It kills me to see you with someone who’s so much better for you, and yet I can’t help but want to replace him with myself. I want to be the one to spoil you and make you smile and love you like I should have all along. Makoto, you don’t know how sorry I am, and how much I regret so many things. All I want in my life is to make you understand that I am so, so sorry, and that I love you more than anything else.”

Makoto’s hand dropped away, and he turned to wash it off and put the glitter away. He didn’t know what to say to a Sousuke who was so painfully truthful. He had nothing to give the man, because he couldn’t. He had Raphael.

It wasn’t out of duty or even loyalty as much as the fact that Sousuke scared him. Even if he grew to love the man again and he became okay with the past, it petrified him to think that it could all turn out the same again, or to find that Sousuke hadn’t changed. No matter how much he really wanted to believe Sousuke’s words, it couldn’t be that easy for a man with so many scars from love. Raphael... was safe. Sousuke was a 100 mile an hour motorcycle ride in the rain on a high, steep, winding road. It would surely be exhilarating, but it would always feel like it could be over at any moment.

Now more than ever, Makoto needed safe. What he wanted didn’t matter. He needed something to ground him. His heart had nothing to do with this; this was self-preservation.

“Makoto, you look gorgeous,” Sousuke breathed as if he was trying to break Makoto completely. “Every day, you get more and more beautiful, and just when I think you can’t possibly become any prettier, you blow me away again. Makoto, everything about you... I adore. I want to get to know you, this you. I want to be a part of your new life in such a big way.”

“Please, tell me what I need to do. I’ll keep trying until I get this right.”

Sousuke took a step closer, but he didn’t reach for Makoto.

“I’ll never, ever give up on you, Makoto. I’ll always be here for you, waiting, trying my best...”

“You’re wasting your life on me, then,” Makoto bit out. He felt sick, angry for no reason.

Sousuke fell silent for a moment, but when he spoke again, his voice was very sure. “No, it will never be a waste, even if it’s my whole life.”

Makoto turned before he got too caught up, grabbing his wings and walking out. He’d put them on in the bathroom. But the minute he saw his own face in the mirror, he burst into tears. He pulled his phone out of his shorts and sank to his haunches as he called Raphael. The man’s deep, soothing voice filled Makoto’s ear.

“Tell me you love me,” Makoto begged in a broken voice.

“ _Mon ange, qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?_ You know I adore you so much.” Raphael sounded distressed at his boyfriend’s crying.

Makoto cried and whispered, “I know, but I just needed you to tell me-“ 

“I’m coming to get you, are you at work or home?”

Makoto’s heart was simultaneously breaking and overflowing with love. “I’m fine. I’m at work. I just got lonely...”

“Baby, I’ll come see you if you’re lonely.”

“It’s okay... I know you need to sleep early for your training.”

Raphael was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke again, it wasn’t a question. “Come over after work. I’ll text you the entry code.”

Makoto bit his lip, ready to reject the offer, knowing Raphael really needed to be well rested, but more than anything, Makoto needed... company.

“If you’re sure...” he whispered, feeling so selfish.

But Raphael smiled and said fiercely, “Of course. I would never not want you to come over, especially if you’re feeling bad. So come. I’ll keep a light on for you. Just crawl into my arms when you get here.”

Makoto swallowed his own insecurities and anxieties and choked out an over-emotional, “Sure, okay.”

“Thank you,” he whispered fiercely before hanging up. He washed his face and pulled on his wings.

He could do this... 

x

“Lately,” Makoto murmured as he sat curled on the couch. Seijuro looked up at the sound of his soft voice, turning to look at Makoto.

“What’s that?” he asked patiently, golden eyes watching Makoto so earnestly. He almost felt like he couldn’t say it; he didn’t want to worry Seijuro, but he felt so uneasy.

“Lately, I feel like someone’s been... following me.”

Seijuro went still, slowly shifting on the coach to face Makoto. He was quiet for a long time, but he was taking Makoto’s concerns seriously. Even if Makoto wondered if his concerns were silly, Seijuro was taking them very seriously.

“It could be nothing-“

“Would you say something if it was nothing?” Seijuro asked with a serious face. Makoto lowered his chin and slowly shook his head. No, he wouldn’t have said a word if he wasn’t sure, but he was terrified. He felt eyes watching him wherever he went. He didn’t want to be paranoid; he’d tried to shrug it off or explain it away for a while now. When he looked around, he never saw anyone, but he could _feel it_.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I wanted to be sure! I didn’t know if I was just being paranoid...”

Seijuro shook his head and moved closer to Makoto. “After everything you’ve been through, you’re the last person who should worry about being paranoid.”

Makoto swallowed, guiltily whispering, “I didn’t want to worry you...”

“I worry about you anyways, every day, so please tell me sooner next time and don’t make me worry more about you. I’ll worry much, much more all the time if I think you’re not going to tell me when you’re in trouble.”

“Sorry,” hushed Makoto, but Seijuro pulled him into a bear hug, holding him tightly against his chest. Makoto’s tears came as he thought about it. “I’m scared, Seijuro. What if-“

“I won’t let anything happen to you. You know more than anything that I want you to just stay at home and be safe, but I know you won’t agree to that.”

“No...” whispered Makoto. He’d just gotten his life back. He didn’t want to be holed up again, in fear. He couldn’t be beat like that again; it would all be the same as it was before if he let this fear take control of his life.

“I’ll stay with you at work every night. Don’t go anywhere without me. If I can’t make you stay put, at least promise me you’ll never spend a moment alone.”

Makoto nodded. He hated this; he was so thankful for Seijuro, and his friends, but he hated that out in the world were still things that could steal his freedom, his peace of mind. He just wanted to be left alone.

“What time do you work tonight?” 

“At 11.”

“Let me take a nap, and I’ll take you to work, okay?” 

“I feel bad-“

“Don’t,” Seijuro said fiercely. “Don’t ever feel bad for stuff like this. It’s not your fault, it never was. I promised you I’d keep you safe, and I will do that forever if I have to, happily. I love you, and I swear to protect you forever.”

“Have you told Raphael?”

“I can’t bring myself to tell him... I don’t want him to look down on me. It’s not his responsibility-“

Seijuro sighed wearily. “If I was your boyfriend, I’d pull my hair out from all this frustration. You think too much; you’re not a bother. Raphael doesn’t think so little of you to not want to know when things are worrying you. He loves you, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah-“ Makoto choked out.

“While I take a nap, call him. He deserves to know what’s going on. Don’t keep a good man like that in the dark.”

Makoto gave a stiff nod, as Seijuro stood and shuffled into the bedroom to take his nap. Makoto stared for a long time at his phone. Finally, he clicked on Raphael’s contact info.

It went to voicemail; he was probably at practice. Makoto’s heart throbbed softly; he fisted the heels of his hands into his eyes. He hated that there was someone out there keeping him from being with those he loved. He wanted to run out and see Raphael. He wanted to be with them while they practiced, he wanted to swim with them, he wanted Raphael to hug him right now... He wanted to see... someone... He bit his lips at obtrusive thoughts. He picked up his phone again, fingers trembling over his screen.

 _Do you have Sousuke’s number?_

In the end, he couldn’t send the message. 

x

The music pounded through Makoto’s skull, but he couldn’t be distracted from his thoughts. It had been a few days now, and Seijuro was true to his word, even as Makoto saw how it wore him down to stay with Makoto while he worked, running the aquatic center and his lessons during the day. He was getting tired, easily annoyed, but he was trying so hard to hold it together. Sousuke cast a glance at Seijuro like he wondered why this man was still here as he was trying not to nod off at the bar.

Rei slid him a drink. “Drink some water and go take a nap in the locker room. You won’t be able to do anything for Makoto if you’re walking around like a zombie.”

Seijuro nodded slowly; he took the cup and traipsed slowly to the back room. Makoto watched him go from the side stage. Golden eyes caught his as he walked past the back entrance to the stage.

“Seijuro...” Makoto whispered, fretting, but Seijuro just smiled and waved him off.

“Don’t worry, cuteness. Focus on your dance.”

Makoto clutched his hands into the small tutu he wore, his heart racing. He felt sick. This couldn’t go on.

Sousuke appeared before him, worry creasing his handsome face. In the end, Makoto hadn’t even told Raphael what was going on. He couldn’t; he saw how it was destroying Seijuro. Raphael didn’t have to be a part of the rottenness of his past; Makoto wouldn’t let him be tainted like that. Still, no one had failed to notice that Makoto was being eaten up by something he wasn’t sharing. Sousuke wasn’t stupid enough anymore to not notice either.

“I can tell the boss to cancel your performance. You don’t look like you want to be on that stage tonight.”

Makoto shook his head frantically, grabbing at Sousuke’s arm to keep him from going to do what he’d said. “I can’t let my own problems interfere with my work and make it harder on others.”

“It’ll be worse if you can’t perform well tonight, don’t you think? I’m sure everyone will be okay with you sitting out tonight.”

“Sousuke, please-“

“Makoto, everyone’s fucking worried about you,” Sousuke hissed, his face pinching together. The brunet flinched back, and pain flashed across Sousuke’s face. He let out a slow breath. “Makoto,” he tried again, but there was no need for that. Makoto understood that he was no good right now. His hand on Sousuke’s arm tightened as tears spilled from his weary eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered over and over. Sousuke stood stock still, his hands aching to pull Makoto to him, but he couldn’t do that.

“I’ll tell the boss. Why don’t you go home early?”

“No, I have to at least finish my shift. I’ll go wait on tables with you.”

Sousuke sighed wearily, but he knew there was no arguing with Makoto, who wouldn’t let himself be such a burden by leaving early and putting everyone at work in a bad spot.

“Do you have something else to wear?” he asked, trying not to stare too long at Makoto’s chest. Makoto looked up quizzically, wondering suddenly what was wrong with his outfit. He tugged at the bralette he wore. “At least... a shirt...” Sousuke said with a crooked frown.

“I’m sorry...” murmured Makoto, suddenly ashamed. Sousuke scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head.

“Damn it, Makoto, the problem is that you look way too good,” husked a deep voice against the palm of his hand, and Makoto’s eyes jerked up, big and wide. Sousuke was blushing from ear to ear, looking away. “Those monsters out there will eat you up alive...”

Makoto pursed his lips, but he couldn’t contain his giggle. It slipped past his lips, and his whole face lit up. His body felt lighter as he giggled into his hand, trying to be quiet. When he looked up again and saw Sousuke watching him from the corner of his eye, face still red, Makoto beamed at him.

“Thanks, Sousuke. I think... I’ll be all right tonight.” He turned confidently back to the stage. “You don’t have to tell the boss anything. I’ll do my job.”

“Really-“

Makoto looked over his shoulder and gave the other man a big smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at Sousuke and thought, “Yeah, we can just be friends.” There was no confusion in that moment; all the thoughts he’d struggled with seemed to melt away. Sousuke was just part of his past; his future was Raphael. He’d call the man tonight, after his performance. Tonight, he’d dance the best he’d ever done. He’d put his heart into it. He didn’t need to be confused or hold back. He loved Raphael, and only... Raphael.

That resolve was easy to hold until it was just him and Sousuke in the locker room. Everyone had left a while ago, while Makoto had been undressing and showering. When he’d stepped out, Seijuro had been there waiting for him with a panicked look in his eyes.

“Something happened at the center and the cops are there.” Seijuro’s knuckles were white as he clutched his phone. “Stay here until I get back. Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

“I’ll come with you-!”

“Stay here!” Seijuro yelled frantically, his eyes wide with fear. He wasn’t thinking rationally. He hadn’t slept enough, and he wasn’t thinking this through... Makoto’s heart slammed in his chest. This was his fault; somehow this was all his fault.

“Don’t go!” he begged, a sense of impending doom looming over him, but Seijuro was already turning away, heading out.

“Stay here, for the love of god, Makoto!” he yelled over his shoulder.

The room fell quiet, and Makoto thought he was all alone until his eyes shifted to a quiet mass sitting on the end of the bench, aqua eyes watching him quietly. Makoto hugged his towel around him and whirled around. He was petrified. He had brought something evil upon those he loved.

“Do you want to call Matsumoto-?”

“ _No!_ ” screeched Makoto, his hands shaking as he watched what he’d built fall down around him. At the very least, he had to spare Raphael. “Don’t tell him,” he begged as he pulled on his clothes over his wet body.

“Okay,” whispered Sousuke calmly, the only one maintaining any sanity. “Seijuro asked me to stay with you.”

“Would you like some tea?”

Makoto sank to the floor and sobbed, breaking down. Tea? He couldn’t do this. Why had it come to this? He hadn’t meant for everyone to be troubled by his problems. He’d tried his best to get rid of them by himself, but they’d come back and now everyone around him was suffering.

Makoto cried out when a warm body sunk against his back, arms hugging around him. All of his resolves crumbled to the ground. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t- He was worried out of his mind for Seijuro. Sousuke would never let him go, though. His mind raced as Sousuke held him from behind. He didn’t care about his own safety, but this fear creeping up inside that something wasn’t right, that Seijuro was walking into a trap was too real to ignore.

“Tea... sounds nice,” murmured Makoto in a shaky voice.

Sousuke slowly rose. “Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he told Makoto, before walking to the small staff kitchen behind the bar.

Makoto listened to his footsteps recede, listened to the door swung open and shut behind Sousuke. Quick as lightning, when the coast was clear, Makoto grabbed his jacket and tugged on his shoes. He moved slowly to the door, heart in his chest. Every step he made sounded so loud, but Sousuke was still in the kitchen, and Makoto made it to the door at the back of the club with as little sound as possible. Getting the back door open would be the hardest of all. He grabbed the handle and took a slow, deep breath. He pulled his jacket tight around himself like that would hide him, and he slowly, slowly pushed the door open. Freezing cold air hit him, and he realized his hair was wet, his body still a little wet under his clothes. He slipped through the crack in the door and shut it softly, turning only when he deemed he’d escaped without notice.

“Hello, Makoto,” murmured a voice that sent an ice pick straight into Makoto’s heart. Fear gripped him like an iron fist and he couldn’t breathe. The cold tip of something sharp pressed against his neck. “You look well, but you shouldn’t be walking around out here with wet hair.”

That tone was cold, dismissive, sickeningly fake, like every word was a lie drenched in poison. Oh, how quickly he’d forgotten this pure terror. He’d never wanted to feel it again. He’d hoped... he’d been foolish. Suddenly, he saw very clearly that the trap wasn’t set for Seijuro, but it was set for him, and like the bleeding-heart fool he was, he’d fallen for it.

Kai knew him all too well.

Makoto slowly turned and faced the man who could make him more terrified than anything else. He felt the tip of the knife Kai held slide against his neck as he turned. He couldn’t run even if he wanted to. Kai would kill him in an instant; no, worse. He’d hurt him so badly that Makoto could never run away from him again. The knife flashed and Makoto could only recall red hair, a screaming woman, a waving knife. True moments of fear flashed through his mind. What was he supposed to do; he couldn’t even think about that past the blinding fear. Kai had him exactly where he wanted him.

“You’ve been a bad boy, Makoto. How long did you think you could run away from your boyfriend? And pretending with that other... man. Do you know how sick it made me to see you pretend like you loved him? Didn’t we make a promise?”

Makoto couldn’t remember. Had he ever promised Kai anything at all? Did it even matter; Kai took what he wanted and forced people to give him everything else.

“Really, Makoto, you should be glad I’m as calm as I am now. You deserve a real beating for all the shit you made me go through for this, but I’ll be nice for now. After all, I’m just so glad to see you, baby doll.”

The poison that dropped from every word Kai said was seeping into Makoto’s skin. He couldn’t think. His mind was stuck on a single word, a single feeling.

_Help!_

Helpless.

“Let’s go home, Makoto. We can discuss this again in the morning, when we’re both better rested.” A hand reached for him, like a claw, that knife still too close for comfort. Kai loomed. What was he even saying? “It won’t do to let our emotions get the better of us right now. You’ll see in the morning, that being by my side is the only place you belong-“

Kai’s words stopped suddenly. Makoto couldn’t process anything. When had the door opened behind him? Who was it that had moved so fast, and why was there blood blooming from Kai’s nose. The man stumbled back, a hand whipping out in front of Makoto’s eyes, gripping and wrenching the arm that held the knife. Kai grunted out in pain and dropped the weapon. A huge body stepped between Kai and Makoto.

“It’s okay, Makoto,” a familiar voice whispered, tender, sweet, filled with so much worry. And then Sousuke was all anger and vengeance as he breathed, “ _Haven’t you learned your lesson yet, you damn bastard?_ ”

“I thought I’d warned you to never show your face to Makoto ever again, but apparently the message didn’t get through your thick head. I’ll spell it out for you again. _Stay. the fuck. away from. Makoto._ ”

Makoto sank against the door and down to the ice cold ground. His ears rang; the world faded out, sounds dulled, as he watched Sousuke tackle Kai to the ground, beat the shit out of him like he’d never stop. Blood flew, a tooth here and there. Kai struggled against Sousuke, punching back. He was a wrestler by profession, but Sousuke had fury brimming over inside and it was enough for him to roll Kai to his back over and over again. Kai tried every trick in the book, but Sousuke didn’t give a shit. He grabbed Kai’s head and slammed his skull against the concrete until blood dripped down.

“Stop,” Makoto shuddered, tears falling. “Please... stop.” His voice was so weak. Sousuke didn’t hear him over all the yelling. He didn’t stop until Makoto reached out a trembling hand and grabbed his ankle. With his fist raised high in the air, Kai’s jacket gripped in his other hand, Sousuke froze. Kai let out a laugh, but it was short lived.

“One more,” breathed Sousuke heavily, and the next punch he landed knocked Kai out cold, his head snapping back and smacking one last time against the concrete. His body went limp and Sousuke dropped him like that. When he turned to Makoto, he was a frightening sight.

His aqua eyes were black, filled with so much hatred. His body was covered in splattered blood, his face too, and his knuckles dripped with it. His lips was bleeding, or was that Kai’s blood? His eye was starting to swell. He wiped his hands on his pants.

And then, when he looked at Makoto, his face broke into the sweetest smile, eyes shutting, sadness and regret and happiness just to see Makoto safe... Still, he apologized again. “I didn’t want you to ever have to deal with that piece of shit again. You should head back inside.”

Sousuke took a step forward, his face going pale and Makoto watched him begin to crumble forward. With some kind of incomprehensible strength and quickness, Makoto lunged up and caught Sousuke as he fainted. He sank to his ass, Sousuke on top of him, and he had to crawl backwards and drag Sousuke back inside. He locked the door with shaking hands and had to leave Sousuke lying in the hallway. His knees like jelly, he went to get a wash cloth, band aids... anything. His phone.

By the time he made it back, too much stuff bundled in his arms as he panicked and grabbed everything he saw, Sousuke was rousing again. He lay and blinked at the ceiling, slowly, brain processing like it was lagging. Makoto sank to the floor beside Sousuke’s head, dropping everything he’d brought beside him, picking through it to see what was useful now. He was scared to look at Sousuke’s body. The shirt he wore was bloody and torn, and his face was a mess of blood, some his own and some not. Makoto started with the wetted paper towels he’d grabbed, trying to rub them over Sousuke’s face as gently as he could. He was scared to hurt the other man. Bleary aqua eyes stared up at his crestfallen face, as he slowly cleaned Sousuke off. Next, he took his hands, one at a time, and cleaned the knuckles and his wrists. There were bloody hands prints where Kai had grabbed him.

He paused for a moment at Sousuke’s shirt, wondering if there were wounds under it, and if he should make sure. Sousuke caught his hesitation, slowly rising to sitting, groaning and cursing, lifting his shirt with his least injured hand.

“I’m okay,” he lisped as he pulled his shirt down again, slowly turning to face Makoto. He looked miserable and hurt, but as he looked Makoto over, a light shone in his eyes like he was so glad the brunet was unhurt. Like he’d take the pain again for that end result. “Is he still out there?” he asked next, turning to look at the door behind them.

“Shh!” Makoto whispered in fear. To him, Kai was right at the door, waiting like a blood hound, but hopefully he’d left, or he was still completely unconscious. Maybe he should call the police. He shook his head and turned back to look at Sousuke, face set in deep worry. Sousuke’s right eye was swelling, a cut on his eyebrow and one on his lip. Both had blood that was starting to dry, the wounds closing themselves. There were some scratches on his cheeks and neck, red marks where Kai had grabbed him by his scruff. His knuckles were still bleeding, so after he handed Sousuke a bag of ice for his eye, he set to bandaging up his hands.

He was making a mess of it, starting with tiny bandaids and then using gauze around and around and around, but Sousuke didn’t complain as he quietly watched Makoto work. “Are you okay?” he’d ask every once in a while.

“I’m fine!” Makoto finally snapped, frustration at himself rising again. This was all his fault; why did Sousuke feel so worried about him? When he looked up and saw the concern all over Sousuke’s face, his fear kicked in. Fear of what would have happened if Kai had won, if he’d dragged Makoto off.

“Why did you fight him?! You know he’s a wrestler! He could have taken you down!” 

“I wasn’t thinking about that. All I knew was that I had to protect you.”

“You could have just pulled me inside!”

Sousuke paused, watched Makoto. In a serious tone, he said, “I was so angry when I saw him, and I knew if I ever saw him again I’d beat the shit out of him a second time for what he did to you-“

“I knew it! You went and confronted him before?!” 

“Yeah, when I found out-“

“Why would you do that?!” Makoto yelled, too many emotions surfacing. All for his sake, people were doing such foolish things. Makoto’s hands shook, and when he raised one to Sousuke, the man didn’t even blink. He slapped Sousuke hard across the cheek. “You’re such an idiot! Don’t do that because of someone like me!”

Sousuke stared back at Makoto, still just worried, but now his lips wound had opened up again and it was bleeding down his chin.

“Shit!” Makoto scrambled forward and pressed a paper towel to it, tears falling. “I’m so sorry-“

Warm hands wrapped around his own as they trembled against Sousuke’s cheeks, and steady aqua eyes watched him.

“I would do it again,” he said confidently.

“Why?! You don’t need to go out of your way for someone like me! My problems are my own-“

Hands pulled Makoto’s to his chest, where Sousuke held them. His heart was beating, pumping rapidly. “You’ve handled these things by yourself for far too long. I want to help. Please, let me help.”

“No, I can’t,” choked out Makoto, crying. “Look what happens! I don’t want you to get hurt because of me-“

“I told you I wanted to do it. I needed to. I want to be the one to protect you.” Sousuke raised his hands, palms up to Makoto, showing them. “With these hands, I want to rid your life of every bad thing, whatever it takes.”

“Why would you do something so stupid?!” Makoto sobbed, frustration and anger at himself mixing with his fear and regrets. He dipped his head down, shoulders shaking as he cried. “Why would you put yourself in harm’s way like this? Look at how hurt you are! He had a knife! It could have been worse! What if that was you lying out there on the concrete-?” Once he started, he couldn’t stop. He babbled on and on and he cried his heart out, until big hands cupped his jaw and pulled his face up, until warm, soft lips pressed against his own. The taste was salty from tears and blood, but also sweet, with love and tenderness. Makoto’s thoughts derailed and crashed to a halt, and he blinked in surprise as Sousuke slowly deepened the kiss, a thumb rubbing over Makoto’s cheek.

“I did it because I love you so damn much,” Sousuke said as he pulled away. “I saw red when he was pointing that knife at you. All I’ve ever wanted was to keep you safe, and I failed you tonight.”

“I was stupid and left on my own. That’s not your fault-!”

“Yes, it is,” Sousuke whispered. “I want to take responsibility for this. I want to do the best by you that I can, and tonight, I failed.”

“You did more than enough,” Makoto said as he cried, and Sousuke kissed him again.

“I love you, Makoto,” he reminded the other again. “I don’t know if I can be better than Matsumoto, or Seijuro for you, but I’ll never, ever stop trying to be the best man for you.”

Makoto didn’t doubt it anymore. How could he? The resolutions he’d had just a few hours ago wavered. Sousuke’s kisses had never tasted so sweet. Still he pushed the man softly away and quietly cleaned the rest of his wounds.

His phone rang suddenly by his knee, and when he saw the name on his screen, he remembered with a jump. He grabbed at his phone and pressed it to his ear. “Sei?! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine,” coughed Seijuro. To himself, he grumbled, “Damn, it’s cold out here.” 

“What happened?!”

“Someone broke the front window of the aquatic center with a rock. There was a note tied to the rock, threatening me personally, so the police have me at the station.”

“Seijuro! I’ll come to you!”

“No, please don’t do that. You need to be home. Or actually, go to Raphael’s and stay there. Don’t be alone. Are you okay?”

Makoto worked his lips together and gave a small lie. “I’m fine.”

Seijuro paused, then asked in a serious tone, “Is Sousuke still there with you?”

“Yes,” Makoto responded uneasily, seeing where this was going.

“Let me talk to him,” Seijuro said stiffly. Makoto’s hands trembled as he handed his phone over. He couldn’t look Sousuke in the eye as the man took his phone in hand.

The first words out of his mouth were, “Kai came here, but I beat the shit out of him.”

Seijuro was suddenly yelling on the other end, his words illegible for Makoto, but he knew how angry the other man was. He’d blame himself. He hated lying, but he didn’t want Seijuro to know what had happened. He pursed his lips together and tried to bite back his tears. He wanted to be stronger, damn it!

Sousuke retold the whole story of the night, and finally the two ended the call. “He wants me to take you to Raphael’s.”

Makoto shook his head in fear. He didn’t want to get his boyfriend involved in this mess. Too many innocent people were already being affected. He pulled himself to his feet and went to collect all of the tips he had in his locker. He grabbed his bag and started stuffing his jar and loose bills inside.

“What are you doing, Makoto?” Sousuke asked as he sank to his knees beside the brunet. 

“I have to pay for the window- This was all my fault. If I’d just-“

Hands grabbed his face again, but this time Makoto saw it coming. He pulled away from Sousuke before the man could kiss him.

“I have a boyfriend-!”

“You haven’t even told him about any of this,” Sousuke said like he knew. Makoto flared up with anger.

“I won’t get him involved in this too! I’m just trying to protect him!”

Sousuke sighed. “I don’t give a damn about him, to be honest.”

Makoto’s mouth sank open and Sousuke claimed that moment of surprise to pull Makoto back to him, kissing his scarred cheek now.

Against his wet cheek, Sousuke husked, “Honestly, I hate seeing you with Matsumoto, but I know I have no right to interfere. Still, right now I want to stake my claim on you; I want to be the one in your heart that protected you. I wish you were mine. I wish I’d never let you go.”

When Makoto smacked him this time, he didn’t feel so bad about it. No, he was hurt. He didn’t want to hear those words from Sousuke. They presented a possibility where none of the bad things that Makoto had gone through would have ever happened. His parents, Kai, the months and months of loneliness and self-doubt and starving himself to feel some semblance of okay. Sousuke slowly licked his bleeding lip and pulled away.

He looked to be trying to make the right decision. When he spoke, he’d made up his mind, whether he liked the decision or not. “I’ll take you to Matsumoto’s. Tell him everything, Makoto.” He twisted his lips and added, “He deserves to know. He’s your boyfriend, after all.” Aqua eyes flashed at Makoto.

The brunet clenched his fists in his lap, his heavy bag of money sitting between his legs. He stared at it for a long time as Sousuke changed his shirt and slipped on his jacket. Kind hands helped Makoto button up his own, a scarf wrapping around his face and neck. Makoto’s green eyes peered up at Sousuke, but his face betrayed nothing.

Silently, they walked out the front door after calling the cops to the alley to collect a still unconscious Kai. Makoto let the silence fill his head with static. He was tired. At the door to Raphael’s building, he turned back to give Sousuke the best thank you he could in his current state, but Sousuke’s eyes made his words fall away.

“Call the station tomorrow and get a restraining order put out on that man. Don’t let him hurt you ever again. Please, Makoto. I won’t be there every single time.”

Makoto’s lips twisted. Haru had told him to do that from the start, but he hadn’t ever wanted to see Kai again, or fear the man coming after him for retribution. But now their matters had involved and hurt others. Makoto wrung his hands together. He wasn’t sure if a restraining order would keep Kai away. Would it anger him even more? He didn’t respond, just turned silently to the door and opened it with the code Raphael had given him a few days ago.

“Thank you,” he said to Sousuke just as the door shut behind him. Quietly, he traipsed to the elevator and pressed the button with Raphael’s name on it. The elevator rose as Makoto’s fears settled in his soul. Raphael welcomed him with warm hugs and kisses to wash away the memory of Sousuke’s lips, and Makoto told himself he just had to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🥰🥰🥰🥰


	25. What the Heart Wants

Seijuro was in the kitchen when Makoto woke up. Mornings were chilly as the end of the year drew near, and Makoto slowly escaped his cave, cocooned in a blanket off his bed. The smell was what drew him out of bed.

“What’s this?” croaked Makoto with a sleepy, confused laugh. Seijuro’s hair was messy, and he wore a plastic party hat atop his shock of red hair. He wore a frilly apron and boxer shorts and socks. He was standing at the stove and singing to himself, turning sharply when he heard Makoto’s laugh.

“Birthday boy!” he yelled as he scrambled for a little kazoo he had stuffed in one of his apron pockets. He swung his spatula around and tooted out the melody of the happy birthday song. Makoto clutched his blanket tighter and laughed aloud.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered even as he padded up to Seijuro to inspect the stove. Bare arms hugged around his waist, a chin coming to rest on his blanketed head. “You made me chocolate chip pancakes?”

“Yeah, I had to search forever for the ingredients, too.”

Makoto laughed, but his heart was filled with love and happiness. He turned to look up at Seijuro and smiled wide.

“Happy birthday, Makoto,” hummed Seijuro with a big smile, hugging Makoto and nuzzling their cheeks together. “You deserve the whole world, but I couldn’t afford that, so please accept breakfast and this.” Seijuro pointed at a small bag sitting on the counter near the stove.

Makoto looked up before reaching for the bag, pulling it open. He laughed when he saw what was stuffed inside.

“I thought it was about time you got some of your own.”

Makoto pulled out the rolled swim jammers, green stripes down the sides of the long legs, and smiled wide. They reminded him so much of the ones he’d always loved in high school. He turned and pulled Seijuro into a hug, jammers in his fist. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything at all.”

“Of course I did, silly.” Seijuro rolled his eyes and huffed like he was annoyed. “Just a thank you is fine next time.”

Makoto grinned, nodding. He wasn’t sure he’d remember, but he’d try.

“Now get back in bed so I can serve you your breakfast, my king.”

Makoto rolled his eyes, but he obediently trudged back to bed. When Seijuro came in a few minutes later with a tray laden with breakfast foods, Makoto took it and then pulled Seijuro down into the bed with him, pushing covers over his bare legs. He sank against the man’s chest and sighed happily.

“Raphy would be so jealous if he saw us right now.”

Makoto laughed, trying to imagine the man being jealous of anything.

“Actually...” murmured Seijuro in an evil tone. He whipped out his phone, hugged Makoto to his chest and pressed a kiss to his bed head, snapping a selfie of them. “I think Sousuke will enjoy this photo even more...”

“Don’t you dare!” yelped Makoto, choking on a bite of pancake. His face went beet red; all he could think about was two nights ago at the club, when Kai had shown up, and that kiss... “Please don’t antagonize him!” Makoto begged.

Seijuro smirked, but he showed that he’d just sent the photo to Raphael. A response popped up right away from the blond.

 _He’s mine. Please send him over just like that._ There were too many heart eye emojis to count, and Makoto blushed again. Seijuro hugged him once more, lips to his ear.

“I’m sorry for what happened the other night. I’ll try to be nicer to Sousuke, since he saved you when I couldn’t be there.”

Makoto could remember how Seijuro had cried when he’d trudged in the next morning, Makoto sitting at the kitchen table with his big jar of tips, counting out the money into stacks. “It’s for you, for the window,” Makoto had said, and Seijuro had pulled him up into a tight hug. 

He’d cried as he’d begged for forgiveness, for not being there. “Are you okay?!”

“Sousuke was there...”

Seijuro’s face had fallen, but the look in his eyes was gratitude. “...I know. I’m so glad...”

Makoto couldn’t forget that look; it had been hard for him to bring up what had happened. Raphael had barely wanted to let him leave his house. It had taken two hours to explain the history with Kai and what had happened, and then another four peeling Raphael off his body.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Raphael had cried out sadly, and Makoto had felt so terrible. Telling Raphael felt like a weight off his chest, but he hated seeing the man so torn up over something so out of his control. Raphael had driven him home in the end, watching until he got to his door, texting to make sure he’d locked it behind him.

He couldn’t express how grateful he was for the people in his life. He still didn’t know how to thank Sousuke, but maybe Seijuro’s mumbled thanks had been enough. Sousuke had been unable to contain his proud smile, but his eyes had been so kind as he’d looked Makoto over. The make-up Kisumi had applied barely hid the cuts and large bruise on his cheek bone. Makoto’s gut wrenched every time he saw it.

Seijuro hugged him and poked at the pancakes. “You’re only allowed to think about good things today.”

Makoto turned his head and looked up at the man. “Okay,” he whispered with a small smile. He ate another huge bite of his food.

x

Haru watched with narrowed eyes as Raphael approached their table. It felt odd to Makoto to be at the club but not working. He wore a knitted cardigan that was way too big on him, sleeves rolled up, and his favorite pair of ripped jeans. Raphael beamed down proudly when he saw Makoto.

Haru had probably bought Makoto way too many drinks, and Rin hadn’t let go of his arm the whole night. Rin had yelled angrily when he’d heard about what had happened with Kai, ready to go out and fight the man, but Haru had been deathly quiet. Now, he seemed overly suspicious of every man that had a vested interest in Makoto, even if it was someone he knew very well would never hurt Makoto. 

Raphael slid into the booth beside Makoto, wrapping an arm around him and giving him kisses on his face. He murmured sickeningly sweet things to Makoto in his sexy French accent, and Makoto turned beet red as Haru and Rin watched. Rin was grinning like a big fool, Haru sizing Matsumoto up like he didn’t know the man at all.

“Stop that,” hissed Rin, smacking his hand against Haru’s arm when he caught sight of his boyfriend’s face. “You look evil.”

Just at that moment, Sousuke appeared, and Haru’s demeanor kicked into overdrive. Sousuke actually felt the need to raise his hands. Makoto was too absorbed in Raphael and the embarrassing things he was doing to notice, but Sousuke watched them for a long moment.

“Another drink?” asked Rin with a weary sigh as he pushed his empty glass forward. Makoto’s eyes snapped up and he went bright red when he saw Sousuke standing there. Sousuke’s eyes turned away; something uneasy settled in Makoto’s gut. It tasted bitter; he tried to ignore it, but his eyes followed Sousuke as he walked away.

“I’m ready to get you out of here,” hummed Raphael into Makoto’s ear. The brunet turned back to the Frenchman and smiled. It was impossible to not feel like the most loved person in the world when Raphael’s gooey eyes were glued to him.

“Ew,” groaned Rin like he didn’t stare at Haru the exact same way. Makoto turned to his two friends, the knowing looks in their eyes making him blush.

“Go on, enjoy your date,” huffed Rin like he was annoyed, but Makoto saw the way his lips twitched up a little.

Haru leaned across the table and grabbed Raphael’s sleeve. “Hey, look at me.”

Blue eyes met each other, and the silent staring began. Something was being relayed, because finally they broke their locked gazes, and Haru nodded, satisfied, Raphael determined.

“Let’s go, _mon petit ange_ ,” Raphael said as he helped Makoto out of the booth. Makoto’s friends waved the two off.

“What was that back there?” asked Makoto when they were out of earshot.

“Haru gave me his blessing,” Raphael grinned proudly as he slipped an arm around Makoto’s waist and his hand into his boyfriend’s.

Makoto laughed softly, eyes catching Sousuke’s as they passed the bar. Makoto couldn’t describe the look on his face, but it twisted his gut up. His laughter fell to silence, and he turned his eyes down. Raphael kissed his temple at his silence.

Makoto felt lost; Sousuke was expecting things from him, no, asking for them sweetly and kindly, but Makoto couldn’t give the man what he desired. He had Raphael. They had baggage. It wasn’t all so easy, but Sousuke’s sad eyes almost made him wish it was... He turned to look up at Raphael, who was smiling proudly, eyes chock full of love. Makoto didn’t want to think about whether this was just him satisfying himself; he didn’t want to admit he was being a little selfish with Raphael. He didn’t want to face the fact that maybe it was wrong...

It felt so nice. He didn’t want to give this up. He wanted to just be loved.

Raphael sat him down on his kitchen counter, and Makoto watched the man as he worked out a wonderful-smelling meal. Once in a while, Raphael would spoon-feed him little taste tests. Raphael’s hands never left him, whether it was a resting hand on his thigh or fingers linked together, or arms around his waist. Makoto needed this more than he cared to admit. He accepted all of Raphael’s kisses with enthusiasm. When the man sunk his hand into brunet hair and kissed Makoto deeply, he let his mind go blank, let himself enjoy the moment.

“You taste so sweet,” husked Raphael when he pulled back, eyes a little hooded with desire. The heat from the stove wasn’t the only one filling the room. Makoto grazed his fingers over Raphael’s palm in a silent request. The blond man smiled and linked their hands again before stepping back to the stove.

“I love you,” said Raphael so easily as he smiled at the stove before him, pride thick in his voice. Makoto worked the words around in his head and in his heart.

“I love you,” he husked back, his smile wobbly but true. Raphael dipped his finger in a pot and raised it to Makoto’s lips, grinning as the other kitten-licked it clean. He gave a nearly erotic sigh at the taste that filled his mouth, and Raphael grinned.

“I love you like that,” he flirted as he pressed his wet finger to his own lips next. Makoto watched him lick it. It was way too sexual to be as innocent as tasting food. Makoto was getting way too stirred up.

“You don’t play fair,” he pouted to Raphael. “I can’t cook like you or be sexy like you, so I feel like you’re just spoiling me rotten.”

“So?” grinned Raphael.

“It’s not fair,” frowned Makoto, tugging at Raphael’s hand.

The blond man laughed. “Oh, trust me, this is very fair.” His eyes were liquid lava as he looked up at Makoto. “You don’t even know all the things you do that make me go crazy for you.”

Makoto blushed deep red, but he couldn’t pull his eyes off of Raphael’s smile; off his lips. “Like what,” he whispered, morbidly curious. Raphael was between his legs in a heartbeat, voice low, fingers trailing over soft skin. He brushed Makoto’s hair behind his ear and traced his jaw line, fingers slipping down his neck.

“ _Tes yeux_ , the way you look at me like you can’t believe I’m yours. _Ton rire_ , the way you laugh at my stupid jokes. _Ta voix_ , when you call my name... God...” Raphael let out a long, heated sigh, eyes locked on Makoto’s. “Baby, I can’t even explain the way you make me feel.”

Makoto shivered, heat racing through his body. He wanted Raphael. Dinner seemed unimportant, but he knew Raphael would make him wait for it, let the anticipation grow. Still, he grabbed Raphael’s shirt and whispered, cheeks burning red and voice cracking, “Tonight, I want you so badly.”

“And you’ll have me,” murmured Raphael, taking Makoto’s hand and kissing his fingers. “ _Mon amour, je te promets que tu peux avoir tout de moi_.”

Makoto wondered if it even mattered what Raphael was saying when it sounded so damn sexy.

“But first, dinner,” he husked as he pulled away to grab plates. “I have cake and presents, too.”

Makoto shivered once more; Raphael would really make him ache for it tonight. All he could remember was hot hands on his body, pulling his ass cheeks apart, eating him for dinner... Makoto pressed a hard palm into his crotch as his dick responded to the memories. “Dinner sounds good,” Makoto croaked out desperately, but Raphael smiled at him knowingly. He hefted Makoto off the counter and carried him to the table.

“Be good,” he whispered seductively as he went off to plate their dinner, gathering silverware and wine glasses. He pulled out another ridiculously expensive bottle from his endless collection, Makoto now a little proud to say that he had been part of tasting some of the yummy ones that had been collecting dust inside for a while. Raphael didn’t pull out wine for just anyone, he’d told Makoto one night after they’d shared two bottles. The Frenchman was unfairly good at holding his alcohol, but Makoto had been horny and too hot. Still, he remembered the way Raphael’s voice had sounded, the way his words had stirred Makoto up. He was special to this man, and that was something special in and of itself.

Makoto melted as the first forkful of food hit his tongue, and Raphael watched him with a proud smile on his face. “It’s so good,” whimpered the brunet, shoveling in another bite. He wanted to savor it, but it was too good, and he was so hungry. He gripped his free hand into his jeans and gave a shaky little moan as he took another bite. How was it that Raphael’s food was sometimes all it took to get Makoto in the mood. He stared at the gorgeous man before him and wondered if this was really fair.

“You’re thinking too much again,” scolded Raphael lovingly as he tucked a stray hair out of Makoto’s eyes.

“I can’t help it.”

“Come here, _mon belle_.” Raphael beckoned him over, and he sat Makoto on his lap, pulling him in for a long, deep kiss. Tongues slipped over each other and Makoto could only cling to the man’s shirt. “I adore you,” Raphael husked when he finally broke the kiss, a trail of spit between their lips that Makoto stared cross-eyed at, too dazed to think straight. Slowly, bright green eyes raised to Raphael’s blue, and the other whispered a soft, “Ahh,” as he smiled.

“You’re so pretty. Tell me what you want.” A finger stroked over Makoto’s chin, over his scar. Raphael made him feel like the wounds he carried had made him into something more than beautiful, something precious. With love, Raphael healed Makoto’s heart.

Makoto blushed pink, his eyes shifting down. He had a hard time asking for things, saying what he wanted aloud. This time it was embarrassing. He tried just rubbing a hand over Raphael’s chest to tell the other man, but Raphael clicked his tongue playfully.

“It’s your birthday, but I’m not letting you off so easy tonight. Go on, tell me.”

“...You...” murmured Makoto down to his chest, afraid to make any kind of eye contact.

Raphael nuzzled into Makoto’s cheek and laughed softly. “You’re so sweet. I want to eat you all up.”

Makoto flushed, but he gave a tiny smile.

“But first,” declared Raphael, “I have a gift for you.”

Makoto clung to Raphael and wanted to say that those things could wait, but the words didn’t come, and so he let the man slip away to the bedroom, coming back with a box that was far too big to be anything Makoto deserved. He set it down on his coffee table and beckoned the brunet over. Makoto padded over on socked feet and curled up against Raphael’s side on the rug, staring at the large package that had his name on it, tied with a big red bow.

“Open it,” Raphael laughed. Makoto pursed his lips and slowly reached forward.

“What is this?” he asked, ready to scold Raphael for wasting his money on him. Raphael hugged his waist and laughed again.

“Open it and see.”

Makoto carefully tore open the wrapping, like he was trying to save it, and Raphael just kept giggling against his ear. A white box revealed itself, and Makoto slipped his fingers under the lip at the bottom. Carefully, he lifted the top off, and heat rose through his body at the neatly- laid-out present inside.

It was soft mauve, a full lace body suit, delicate flowers and swirls artfully stitched together. Behind it lay a cream colored, sheer robe, lace to match the suit along the bottom edges and the hems of the quarter sleeves. Makoto’s hands hovered over the gift like he couldn’t even think to touch it; it looked too delicate for him.

“When I saw it hanging on the mannequin, I couldn’t help but think about how much better it would look on you,” Raphael breathed against the shell of Makoto’s ear, heat and desire flushing through his voice. Makoto felt heat run rampant through his body, and he shivered again in his boyfriend’s arms.

“This is too much,” he choked, but still his hands finally dipped down and carefully lifted up the two items. They were incredibly soft lace; Makoto couldn’t even imagine how much they’d cost. He’d never owned anything so fancy in his whole life. He carefully hugged the material to his chest. How long had Raphael had this, and been dreaming of tonight?

“Will you wear it for me tonight, _mon ange_?”

Makoto choked out a moan; Raphael had never sounded so needy before, so turned on. Makoto turned to find heated eyes watching him. Raphael’s hand tightened on his waist. “Okay,” the brunet stuttered out, even as his legs felt like jelly and all he wanted was to snuggle into the heat next to him. He rose with a hand on Raphael’s shoulder for support, his hand squeezing into the thick muscle there, and he took a deep inhale before moving off to the huge bathroom down the hall. He heard Raphael follow after him and move into the bedroom, which only stirred Makoto up more.

He tugged off his clothes with shaking hands, the lingerie laid out on the large rug in the bathroom. The marble floor was cold on his feet; he danced around in his socked feet, butt naked but scared. Slowly, he picked up the body suit, the lace too soft to be real, and he could only imagine how it would feel against his skin. He was too aroused already. He sank down to his haunches and rubbed a hand over his hard cock, the lace pressed to his nose. The bathroom smelled like Raphael’s body wash, and it was intoxicating. Makoto slowly stood back up, carefully slipping the body suit on. It was like butter over his skin, sliding on so smoothly. It fit him like a glove, hugging to his curves and accenting things he didn’t know he had. His cock twitched against the material, and he begged it to calm down for a moment. He looked into the large mirror to his side and stared at his red face, his messy hair, his slender body. He’d been gaining some muscle again, but the lace on his skin made him look delicate. He ran his hands over it, over stiff nipples and down his hips. He had to admit that he looked good; he’d never say that aloud, though. He licked his lips in great anticipation of Raphael’s reaction. He had to be bold, he told himself. Raphael would ask him to use his words again; he had to tell the man what he wanted, what he needed. His ass ached to be filled.

He turned and picked up the robe, slipping it over his shoulders. He hugged the material around himself, the last step, stepping out of his socks. In bare feet, he padded to the bedroom door and knocked.

“Come in.”

Makoto shivered at Raphael’s sweet but commanding voice, scolding himself for being so weak. He pushed at the door and let it open. The scene before him took his breath away.

On the floor lay rose petals, and candles flickered, the whole mood of the room overwhelmingly sexual. The bed was covered in petals as well, and in the middle lay Raphael like a damn treat, smiling at Makoto like the man was his whole world. With a crooked finger, Raphael motioned Makoto forward. He stepped inside the bedroom and shut the door softly behind him, leaving the bad things and his worries and fears out in the real world outside. Tonight, this would be his only universe. Tonight, Raphael would be his world.

Makoto let his hands drop down as he stepped forward, drinking in the way Raphael’s eyes hungrily devoured him as the robe slipped open and revealed his body in the lace beneath. The heat from the candles and the flickering lights calmed Makoto’s nerves, the soft music in the background relaxing him. He gave a small smile as he moved to the bed, Raphael’s whole face lighting up at the sight of it. He sat up and gave a complex sigh as he took Makoto’s hands in his own.

“I wish I could describe how gorgeous you are. The things you do to me...” Raphael pulled Makoto’s hand up to his chest; his heart was beating wildly in his rib cage. Makoto’s own heart matched. Next, his hands were pulled up and around Raphael’s neck as he shuffled to the edge of the bed, their bodies coming closer. Raphael’s skin was warm under his clothes.

“Undress me?” he asked suggestively as his own hands explored Makoto’s body. With shaky fingers, Makoto obeyed, unbuttoning Raphael’s shirt, tugging it down his shoulders and off. Raphael lifted his arms to get his undershirt off, and then he rose up to his knees and pulled Makoto’s hands to the button of his slacks. Something hot and hard rubbed against Makoto’s hand, twitching at his touch. Makoto’s eyes jerked down and he ran a curious hand along the outline of Raphael’s hardness. He inhaled sharply; Raphael chuckled, his own hand coming to rub over Makoto’s own erection.

“Ahh~!” Makoto cried out, hot skin through lace rubbing over him. His eyes shot up to Raphael’s, lips aching to touch the other’s.

“Tell me what you want,” Raphael murmured. His voice made Makoto moan. His hands flustered to undo Raphael’s pants, to get him naked, to see. He needed, he wanted, he ached terribly. He didn’t care about being decent right now.

“I want... you...” Makoto husked, trying his best with complicated buttons. Raphael chuckled and dropped his hands to help out. Makoto’s fell away and he watched as Raphael stripped off his pants. He let himself be pulled to the bed, between Raphael’s legs. He let his chest collide with Raphael’s, with his pectorals and abs, and sink against his strong shoulders. Arms wrapped around him and he croaked out a desperate plea.

“Use your words, _mon chérie_ ,” Raphael crooned.

“Please kiss me,” Makoto begged in rushed tones. He craned his neck and and grabbed at Raphael’s neck. “Please,” he begged as soft lips collided with his own, and he moaned.

Raphael’s kiss was hot and lazy; he was begging Makoto to take control. With a needy tongue, Makoto licked out, wanting Raphael’s wrapped around his own. Nails raked over Raphael’s strong back, and he shoved himself against the man’s body. His cock rocked against a thick thigh and he moaned, maybe too overstimulated, but he chased the feeling nonetheless. Raphael gave a lewd little sigh as he parted his lips and curled his tongue around Makoto’s. Makoto choked out a jumbled version of Raphael’s name, which made the other man pull his hips against his leg.

“Ahh~! Lafaellllu~” Makoto lisped, tongue lolling out. His lips tingled sweetly, and he pushed back again to kiss Raphael more.

Fingers slipped against Makoto’s ass cheek, sneakily making their way underneath the hem of the lace body suit, and when a finger pad pressed against Makoto’s entrance, he fell apart with a desperate cry.

“Makoto, my god. You’re so sexy.” Raphael was panting hard. His cock was stretching his boxer briefs. The Frenchman laid Makoto down and crawled over him, sliding his body against Makoto’s chest. He let out a heated sigh against Makoto’s neck before suctioning his lips to the skin there. Makoto cried out and gripped at Raphael’s back, desperate to hold on as his lower body trembled. He was sure he was going to have a million hickeys by the end of the night, Raphael desperate to taste and mark him as his own.

“Tell me what you want,” Raphael begged as they ground themselves against each other, both so needy they could barely stand it, but Raphael wouldn’t just give in like that.

“Please, Raphael...” Makoto begged, fluttering eyelids and pouty lips giving Raphael another rise. He rocked his hips up and gave a quivering, delectable moan. “I want you.”

Raphael dipped down and husked, “How do you want me?”

Makoto knew there was no easy way out this time. His cheeks flared red, but he needed it so badly that he couldn’t think twice. “Your hard cock, I need it. Please fuck me with your big thing~”

“Yes, darling.” Raphael’s words were just a soft gasp on hot air, and it made Makoto go insane. He tried to sit up and get out of his robe. Raphael pulled him up and helped him slip it off, diving down to kiss his shoulders and arms.

“Leave the suit on,” he husked as he slithered down Makoto’s chest with licks and kisses. His fingers pushed aside the fabric at the back and slowly he began massaging Makoto’s hole. Hot lips sank over Makoto’s clothed erection, and through the lace, he began licking and suckling on Makoto’s cock.

His hands flew into Raphael’s soft blond hair and he hung on for dear life as the man slowly peeled him apart and ravaged him bit by bit. He was leaking like crazy against his belly, but Raphael wouldn’t stop until he was sopping wet and wide open for him. When it became way too much, Makoto sobbed out the man’s name. “I can’t wait any longer,” he begged with undying heat. “Please, Raphael.”

“Yes, baby,” the other man husked. He was back over Makoto in a split second, underwear gone and cock in hand. He reached for his lube and lathered himself up over the condom he wore. Finally, finally Makoto would get what he’d been aching for. His body suit was pulled roughly aside at the bottom and Raphael’s hot hands grabbed at his hips. “I’m coming in,” he warned, and Makoto gave a quick nod.

Heat pressed hard against his ass, and no amount of stretching could have prepared him. Raphael was huge, bigger than Kai or Sousuke or probably anyone... Makoto inhaled sharply and cried out, his eyes going wide. His hands clenched into the bedsheets below him and tears slid down his temples.

“Should I stop?” Raphael asked, but Makoto shook his head and blindly reached to grab the man, fingers tightening around his wrists.

“No! Keep going, please... I need you~”

Raphael growled and continued to slowly press inside. His legs trembled with the way he had to hold himself back, like all he wanted was to thrust deep inside and fuck the man hard. His face was turning a little red, but his eyes stayed steady on Makoto.

It was... so good. When Raphael finally reached his end and sank against Makoto, the other man gave a small hiccup. This felt... right. Slowly, Raphael began to move, stirring Makoto up and stoking a fire. Makoto’s fingers gripped tighter and tighter at his boyfriend. His lips worked over words he wanted to say, over pleas.

“What is it?” Raphael grunted out at one point as he started to lose feeling in his hands from how hard Makoto gripped him. “Tell me what you want, Makoto.”

“Harder, please,” Makoto begged as his cheeks and neck flared red. Slowly, Raphael sped up his hips. Makoto’s head went blank. “Harder,” he begged a little more confidently next time. Raphael grunted again, sliding his hands to Makoto’s waist. Lips rained down kisses on his neck and chest.

“You feel so good. You’re so beautiful. _Oh, mon amour, je veux te ruiner_ ~”

Makoto slid his arms around Raphael’s back now and pulled him closer, moaning into blond curls. “Raphael, please... Harder!”

“Fuck,” cursed Raphael as he shot up and roughly flipped Makoto over to his knees. His face smooshed down into soft pillows that smelled like Raphael and he cried out as the man smacked into him.

“Yes!” he screamed. Raphael’s eyes went wide as he did it again. He wrapped his arm around Makoto’s waist and fucked him again. Makoto kept on screaming and begging, and Raphael could barely believe that sweet, mild, soft Makoto was begging to be fucked into the mattress. He almost felt bad, but Makoto was squeezing and trembling so good around his cock that rational thought was far removed from his mind.

“Fuck, Makoto! _Vous vous sentez tellement bien_!”

“ _Harder, Raphael!_ ” Makoto screamed into the pillow as he really let himself go. He hugged the thing to his chest, holding on for all he was worth as Raphael pummeled into him over and over. Nothing had ever felt as good as this. Makoto wanted to cry. The minute Raphael’s hand wrapped around his throbbing cock, he came so hard his back arched up. He screamed into his pillow as his release hit him like a tidal wave. His whole body seized up and Raphael grunted as Makoto’s ass gripped tight around his cock.

“ _Merde_...” Raphael groaned as he himself orgasmed inside Makoto. The brunet sank like a limp rag down to the bed, only Raphael’s arm holding him up now. The French man slowly let him down, cock sliding free from that mind-blowing ass. He plopped down on the mattress next to Makoto’s limp body, hugging him tight. “Makoto... holy shit...”

Makoto gave a weak laugh, embarrassment rushing back, but he was too satiated to care too much. “Was it-“

“It was so good,” husked Raphael. He couldn’t even believe Makoto would need to ask.

“Good,” rushed Makoto in intoxicating relief. He turned and snuggled against Raphael’s chest. It had been so good, so wonderful, so perfect...

Something nagged at Makoto as he slowly drifted off to sleep. Raphael left for a moment to clean himself off, and reality hit Makoto like a train. He turned his head into the pillow as tears spilled out. No, this wasn’t right, he thought as his tears refused to stop. Why was he crying? Why was... He clutched at his chest and trembled through a sob.

The joy from the moment flooded away and Makoto was left only with a gnawing ache. This wasn’t right at all. He pressed his lips together. Why... why? Why did his heart ache? Why did he wish it wasn’t Raphael?

Why did it have to be... Sousuke?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many of y’all have been translating everything Raphael says in Google translate 😂


	26. Like a Head-On Collision

Raphael tugged Makoto’s scarf tighter around his neck as they stood huddled together in front of the Mikoshiba Aquatic Center. Makoto rubbed at his eyes, trying to hold back tears, thinking that if it wasn’t for him-

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this,” gruffed a voice from their left. Two sets of eyes focused on the figure in the doorway, beckoning them inside. “Anyways, that check you gave us made sure we got this place back in shape in no time.”

The only sign left now that anything had happened was a lone piece of police tape fluttering in the wind. Raphael, who was kind beyond belief, had scolded Makoto for spending his well earned money and had written a check to Seijuro’s family for the repairs and a few upgrades to the facility. Seijuro, who was adapt at things like this, had given his thanks and moved on, but Makoto felt himself being eaten up by guilt about the whole thing.

“If it hadn’t been for me,” he mumbled when the door shut behind him and Raphael, the warmth of the center bathing over them, battling the bitter cold of late November outside.

“You can’t take responsibility for anything that crazy bastard does. He’s a lunatic.”

“I brought him into your lives!” Makoto couldn’t stop his tears now; things he’d battled with for weeks started flooding out. He hated that he was weak. “I wanted to be the one to protect you all for once...” he sobbed, words broken up.

“He’s nothing we can’t handle,” Seijuro replied confidently. “He’s just throwing a tantrum because he lost the best thing that ever happened to him, but he took you for granted, so he needs to just suck it up.”

Raphael wrinkled his nose and pulled a face. He’d never met Kai, but he hated him with a passion just from the few stories he’d heard. He pulled Makoto against his chest and hugged him.

“And you need to learn to love yourself more and stop blaming yourself for what that bastard does,” Seijuro added with a smile, nudging Makoto’s cheek.

Makoto frowned, but still he nodded. Raphael chuckled and kissed his cheek, making Makoto blush. He hadn’t said a word about his birthday night with the man, not to anyone. He was trying his best to push the feelings he’d felt down. Being at work with Sousuke left him completely exhausted by the end, but he didn’t know what else he could do. The memories he had with Sousuke were still bittersweet. He didn’t know if he could ever forgive or forget that Sousuke had left him, just like that, and yet, still...

“Are you satisfied now that you’ve seen the place?” Seijuro asked with a smug smirk. “I told you it wasn’t as bad as you thought. And now it’s all fixed, thanks to this guy!” He smacked a friendly hand against Raphael’s shoulder, the two laughing together.

But Makoto had to admit he felt relieved. He’d been endlessly worried about the center, about the damage he felt he’d unknowingly caused. He knew Seijuro was right, that he couldn’t blame himself, but it still ate him up inside. Raphael slipped a hand around Makoto’s clenched fist and kissed his temple again.

“I’ll take Makoto to work tonight,” he told Seijuro, who just nodded proudly, like a dad watching his kids growing up.

“Don’t work too hard,” Seijuro told him, making Makoto pout. 

“That should be my line!”

Raphael and Seijuro laughed, which only made Makoto huff out a sigh. He wondered why he was already so tired, thinking that tonight would be a long night...

x

Nagisa and Kisumi had been whispering together for a while now, and Makoto eyed them suspiciously as he got dressed. From underneath his long lashes, he watched them lean together and sneak glances his way. Tonight was one of their theme nights, and the overwhelming votes this time around had been for Sailor Scouts. Nagisa was dressed as Venus, his skirt too short to really even be called that, and the bow on his ass bouncing as he spoke in excited, hushed tones. Kisumi looked almost too perfect in his matching Sailor Mars outfit, long legs made for showing off in an outfit like this. The crop top showed off his abs and arms, and he seemed to be almost bursting out of the top, whereas Nagisa looked softer and more cuddly. Makoto pulled on his green pumps and stood with a huff, ready to give the two a piece of his mind when they scattered just like that, the locker room falling to silence. Makoto sighed and went to go examine himself in the full length mirror, adjusting his bows and the ribbon choker around his neck. Nothing could hide the possessive hickies Raphael had started peppering his skin with, but he didn’t mind it at all when he thought of how he’d worried over Kai’s bruises. He turned and studied his backside, the bow on his ass ridiculously large, the skirt covering nothing of his supple cheeks. He was starting to see where his hard work was paying off; if he flexed, he could see abs and thigh muscles make distinct outlines on his skin.

“You look perfect.”

Makoto whipped around to find Sousuke watching from the doorway, Nagisa and Kisumi peeking around his shoulders until they skittered off, giggling. Makoto felt betrayed as Sousuke shut the door quietly behind him, hands behind his back. The compliment he’d given hung in the air and made Makoto’s ears burn red. He shouldn’t care what Sousuke thought, but the truth was that it mattered a lot.

“I know I sort of missed your birthday, but I didn’t know what to get you...”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Makoto said with a confused frown as he watched Sousuke move closer, hands still suspiciously behind his back.

“I went back and forth, debating. I was so wrapped up in getting you the perfect gift that I realized too late how much time had passed. So, sorry it’s a week late,” Sousuke placed his feet firmly just in front of Makoto, the other looking up with big eyes, fingers trembling; with what, he didn’t know. Fear, anticipation?

“Happy birthday, Makoto.”

Just the tone of his voice and the proximity of his body was enough to make Makoto blush a deep red. Aqua eyes stared down at Makoto like he was the most precious thing in the world, and Makoto wished it could just be as easy as that.

He looked down when Sousuke’s arms came out of hiding, something obnoxiously large in one hand, a single rose in the other. The soft coral color of the rose was pretty, but Makoto felt confused by the fact that there was only one.

“I remembered you liked chocolate,” Sousuke said sheepishly as he pushed the box he held towards Makoto. It wasn’t anything fancy, just chocolate you could find anywhere, but it was a large sampler box, far too much for one person alone. Still, Sousuke had remembered... Makoto shut his eyes for a moment to reorient his thoughts. He looked up at Sousuke, looked him over. Tonight, he wore suspenders over his bare chest, a bow tie around his neck and still with those little white cuffs, and the shorts he’d started wearing.

“You didn’t have to get me anything for my birthday-“ When Makoto’s eyes slipped back up to Sousuke’s face, he suddenly remembered the kiss from that night, like a violent flashback that he felt with his whole body. Sousuke’s bruises and swelling had started fading enough to hide with make-up, and yet it felt like it had happened just yesterday. Makoto turned bright red, his words fading off to silence. Sousuke’s eyes were hypnotizing. He slowly licked at his lips, his eyes dragging down to Makoto’s like he was thinking the same thing. He pressed his wet lips together in a tight line, didn’t say anything. Makoto wondered what he’d do if Sousuke kissed him again...

As a distraction, he reached out and grabbed the big box of chocolates, hugging it to his chest. “Still, thank you,” he whispered shyly, as Sousuke pressed the single rose into his open palm, folding it gently shut around the stem.

“That...” he whispered, pointing to the rose, “I mean that...”

Awkwardly, he turned, his body seeming suddenly too big, leaving Makoto alone with his confusion. He set the box down on the bench before him, laying the rose gently on top of it. He wondered if he was missing something important, but he couldn’t think of what it might be. Slowly, he stood up straight and let out a long sigh, waiting for his heart to slow down again. Makoto could still smell Sousuke’s cologne lingering in the air, and he had to shut his eyes and force himself not to think, think... All he’d done lately was think, and it had lead him nowhere good.

He walked out a few minutes later with his head held as high as he could. Nagisa and Kisumi were watching him with big eyes, trying to read his mood. His eyes moved away from them and across the room to where Sousuke stood at a table, his back to Makoto.

A group of guys were fawning over Sousuke, and Makoto recognized a few as regulars. One was currently stuffing a twenty-dollar bill into Sousuke’s pants’ hem. He was shaking his hands, but the customer was practically clinging onto him. Makoto felt something black and gross curl up in his stomach as he watched the scene unfold. All he could remember was Sousuke’s eyes on him, his words, his voice... Makoto’s lips twisted into a frown.

“Don’t let the customers see you make that face,” whispered Rei as he sidled up beside Makoto.

“What face am I making?” Makoto asked with a hint of desperation in his voice, his eyes glued to Sousuke.

“Well, you look like you’re watching your boyfriend get eaten up in front of your eyes.”

Makoto inhaled sharply. “You know that’s not what this is,” he whispered hurriedly.

“Then what is it? Because that face you’re making tells me you’re not convinced.”

Makoto slowly turned to Rei, his hand gripping into the white fabric of his satin top. “I just hate it,” he whispered as tears threatened to fall. “I don’t know why.”

Rei glanced towards Sousuke and then back, slow to respond.

“I think you do know, or you’ll figure it out soon,” he said as he gave Makoto’s shoulder a comforting pat. “Don’t make it harder than it needs to be. Love is usually a lot more simple than we think.”

“This is not...” began Makoto, but Rei was already walking away. Makoto turned back to Sousuke. “...love...” His heart beat against his hand pressed to his chest.

“I don’t love him,” Makoto whispered fiercely. “I can’t...”

But the feeling, black jealousy in the pit of his stomach, grew and grew, and Makoto had to force himself to look away.

x

Seijuro sat and stared at the rose Makoto had put in a small cup and placed on their kitchen table. He poked at it and frowned at it and seemed generally discontent with its existence.

“How’s work?” he asked in a too-bored tone that made it seem like he was trying _not_ to sound interested.

Makoto peeked at him and gave a short, “Fine...” He turned back to the sink and pursed his lips at the soapy water in the sink. He was doing the dishes as a distraction, but it wasn’t working.

“Is Sousuke being nice to you?”

Makoto’s ears burned at the mention of the man’s name, but he managed to give a cool, “Yes,” as a response. Makoto scrubbed at the plate in his hands, trying to forget about the way the conversation was going. He was so fixated on it that he yelped when Seijuro blew on his ear, suddenly right behind him. He grabbed it with a soapy hand and gave a dismayed cry.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Seijuro said as he pressed against Makoto’s back, leaning over his shoulder to look at his face. Makoto turned the other way, too late realizing how guilty that made him look.

“How are things with Raphy?” Seijuro asked calmly as he slid an arm around Makoto’s waist, ensuring he couldn’t run away.

“Good, of course. He’s too good to me.”

“Hmm,” hummed Seijuro in quiet disagreement. According to him, no one was good enough for Makoto, but the brunet didn’t share that viewpoint. He blew on Makoto’s ear again, but this time the other was smart enough not to smack a wet hand against the side of his head. He curled his neck and scrubbed his ear with his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he asked in mild annoyance, but he knew exactly why Seijuro was doing it. It was because he knew Makoto was hiding something, and he wouldn’t let Makoto keep quiet any longer. Makoto was mad because he didn’t want to share what was going on in his head.

“Makoto~” hummed Seijuro right into his ear. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I don’t want to tell you,” Makoto said, deciding for honesty. His lips drooped down into a pout, and he turned his face away from Seijuro.

“Is it because you think I’ll be mad? Or scold you?” Another blow to Makoto’s ear. “Does it have to do with that rose?”

Makoto’s whole face flared up at the on-point accusation. Well, it wasn’t just the rose... it was everything. Makoto had binged the whole box of chocolates the same night he’d gotten it because he was _confused_.

“Ahh...” murmured Seijuro, finally pulling away. “Do you know what it means, Makoto? An orange rose?”

“Wha-?” Makoto turned and blinked at Seijuro. “It doesn’t mean anything.” Sousuke had never had enough forethought to buy gifts with a meaning behind it.

Seijuro still tilted his head and cocked his eyebrow. “You sure?”

Makoto let out a laugh, but it was more confused than humorous. “Come on, this is Sousuke we’re talking about...”

Seijuro grabbed Makoto by the hip and pushed him against the kitchen counter, cornering him in. He leaned against his neck and whispered in a low voice, “Orange roses are meant to show desire.”

Makoto shivered, his whole spine shaking as Seijuro murmured, “Sousuke desires you, Makoto...”

He clapped a hand over his mouth, cutting off a weak cry. Desire? Sousuke had been going on and on about how he loved Makoto, but when it was put like that... desire. Green eyes slipped to the single rose. Did Sousuke know what it meant? Makoto could remember the way Sousuke’s turquoise eyes had looked at him. This wasn’t the Sousuke he’d known, which meant... he was underestimating the man. He hated that just the thought of Sousuke _desiring_ him made his body go into heat. The moment he looked at Seijuro, panic in his eyes, he knew the redhead knew what he’d been hiding.

He dropped his head and sighed slowly. “Guess I should have seen that coming...”

“It’s not what you think-“ Makoto tried to deny, but golden eyes snapped up to his and he fell silent.

“I’m just... thinking about him a lot because of work and stuff...” He mumbled meekly, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Because he’s always there...”

Seijuro gave a long sigh again. “I don’t really care, if I’m honest. Sousuke has proven himself to me, though I’ll probably always want to yank his chain, but Makoto... you have to be honest with Raphy if you really-“

“I know! I know that...” Makoto covered his face. “I’m just... confused. It’s nothing serious. He’s being different, but he’s still the same... We already tried it and it didn’t work out.”

Seijuro looked at Makoto out of the corner of his eye. “Are you making excuses or are those valid reasons?”

Makoto pressed his lips together, silent. He couldn’t meet Seijuro’s eye. He was trying to tell himself it was just because Sousuke was acting different, and he was getting attention at work. It wasn’t like he... desired... Sousuke...

“It’s not like that,” he murmured to the air in the apartment. Seijuro just shrugged and stepped away, cupping Makoto’s cheek as he turned. “Just don’t leave Raphy in the dark.”

Makoto rubbed his lips together anxiously, eyes stuck on the single rose on the kitchen table. Sousuke had picked out all of his favorite chocolates to put in the box. He’d remembered something like that... Makoto slid down to the kitchen floor and hugged his knees.

Did he... desire Sousuke too? 

x

“Oh my gosh!” yelped Nagisa, his eyes big and wide and _glittering_. “Makoto,” he gasped as he slipped forward and took hold of Makoto’s hands. The holidays were approaching and the boss had started digging into his closet of Christmas themed outfits.

Nagisa swung his arms to and fro and grinned wide. “Doesn’t he look good?” he sang over his shoulder to anyone who was there to hear it.

“Yes,” choked out a gruff voice. Makoto’s eyes darted up and locked with Sousuke’s big, wide ones. He stood in the doorway like he’d forgotten how to even breathe, and seeing him made Makoto’s cheeks burn red. Nagisa whipped his head around to see who the culprit was.

“Sou! Have you seen Makoto?” Nagisa spun Makoto out, the brunet feeling unstable in heels for the first time in a long while. He collected himself and slowly stood up straight, aqua eyes watching him with heat.

Makoto had on a velvety red crop top with long sleeves, hugging at his arms. Around his hips sat a small, velvet mini skirt, white ruffles underneath and thick white fur along the edge. He had the hood of the top pulled onto his hair, white fur fluttering around his head like a halo, and on his long legs, he wore candy striped thigh high stockings, two big red bows at the top of each sock. He sported glossy white heels.

“You’ve been working out...” noted Sousuke in an effort to pull his eyes away from Makoto’s legs and give an excuse for staring.

Nagisa hands were all over Makoto’s stomach and arms, crooning. “I know! Makoto, you’re so hot!”

Slowly, he was getting back to the size he’d been in high school, but building muscle was hard when he wasn’t swimming to compete every day. Still, with Seijuro and Raphael’s help, he’d managed to bulk up quite nicely in the last few months. The pride he’d felt compared nothing to this moment now, however, and it was a big pill to swallow. Makoto pressed his hands against the front of his skirt, dropping his head down to hide his burning cheeks. He couldn’t take Sousuke’s eyes watching him like that... All he could see was that single rose that he’d sat on their table at home.

Nagisa danced around Makoto and cheered at him, and it was enough of a distraction until Sousuke excused himself, ears tipped in red.

“What was that?!” squealed the blond as soon as Sousuke was gone, big eyes on Makoto.

“What was what?” Makoto asked back as he turned his face up and away.

“Oh no, mister! Don’t give me that!” Nagisa pouted as he pulled at Makoto’s arms, rubbing his hands over them, whining. Finally, he gave up with a sigh. “Just don’t keep it a secret forever.”

Makoto gave his own quiet sigh, nodding solemnly. What was he supposed to do? Why were Sousuke’s reactions and words affecting him so much?

Makoto let Nagisa lead him out, his mind running through reason after reason, but a loud squeal from the main part of the club stopped him in his tracks. Someone had their arms around Sousuke’s bare waist, face buried in his chest, sitting on their knees in the booth to hug him. Well, Makoto had seen a lot of similar things before, but it was the look on Sousuke’s face that felt like a bullet to his heart. Usually, Sousuke looked uncomfortable as all get out, but now he was just frowning, no, _scolding_ the customer... He looked... fondly upset.

It wasn’t until the customer holding on to Sousuke pulled back that Makoto realized what was happening, but by then the feelings had hit him like a bullet train. An oh-so-familiar face turned to look his way and a smile he’d been missing lit up the whole room. Gou let go of Sousuke and sprinted to where Makoto stood, tackling him in a jumping hug. Makoto barely grabbed her and held her up in his arms.

Over her shoulder, he could see Sousuke watching them. It was the look in his eyes that was killing Makoto, and he realized with a skip of his heart that... yeah, he still loved Sousuke. No, not still; he loved him all over again.

The realization was like a head-on collision. He stumbled back and clung on to Gou, as she hugged him and cried about how much she’d missed him, what an idiot he was. He had to pull his eyes to her when she sank back to her feet, catching his hands as she looked him over.

“My god, Makoto, look at you... You’ve gotten so gorgeous!”

Makoto broke down and pulled Gou back into a tight hug. “You idiot,” he murmured into soft, red hair. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Who’s the idiot?” she cried out, but she was laughing.

“Happy birthday,” Makoto sighed into her crimson hair. She smelled exactly the same. She was the one person aside from Haru who had never stopped texting him after he’d run away. He’d missed her so terribly.

“I’m legal now, so buy me a drink! You owe me for all the hardships you put us through!” Gou grinned as she leaned back. She pet at Makoto’s scarred cheek, but her smile never faded. “Are you okay?” she asked earnestly, and for the first time in a long time, Makoto could honestly respond, “Yeah, I’m doing alright.”

She laughed and patted his cheek, taking his hand to lead him back to her booth. A few of her friends sat around, ogling up every one that walked past. “Girls, this is my best friend Makoto! Isn’t he a cutie?!”

As the girls fawned over him, she pushed him into the booth and closed him in by sitting next to him, fingers interlocked.

“We have a lot to talk about,” she whispered into his ear with that same scolding tone she’d always used during their practices. He turned to her and gave her a guilty nod.

From across the bar, Rei set a glass down hard against the bar top, Sousuke’s attention snapping to him. “Quit staring at Makoto and get your orders taken care of,” he scolded with a smack at Sousuke’s arm.

“Sorry,” murmured Sousuke as Rei turned away, his smile only for himself. No matter how hard anyone had tried to keep Sousuke and Makoto apart, it seemed they were just fated to always fall for each other. He didn’t know enough to have an opinion on it, but he thought that as long as Makoto was truly happy, that was all that really mattered. If Sousuke ever made him cry, he was sure there’d be a whole line of people ready to beat the snot out of him. It made Rei chuckle to think of it. He caught Nagisa’s eye and winked at him. His boyfriend blew him a kiss.

Yeah, some people were just meant to be together, he thought happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here she is, the woman of the hour! 😘


	27. Confessions

“If you missed me, you should have just called me!” Gou’s fist smacked down onto the top of Makoto’s head, and he blinked at her. His hood slipped down with her hand, and she smiled at him. “Where have you been all this time?”

“Here,” he said. “Mostly...”

Her thumb rubbed over the scar on his cheek and her face went sad. “Rin told me a little bit,” she said quietly. “Are you okay?”

“I am now,” he responded with a soft smile. He nuzzled into her hand and closed his eyes.

A sighing laugh escaped her lips and she wrapped him into a hug. “I’m so mad that you never talked to me about anything. I had to hear everything from my stupid brother. I was worried sick over you, but I bet you never even thought about me!”

Makoto pulled back and shook his head violently, but she laughed softly and pulled him back into her hug. Slowly, his arms came up around her to hold her back.

“I know, Makoto. I know how you are. I’m sure it was hard for you, and you felt like you were all alone, that you had to handle it all by yourself. I think that side of you is so stupid, but it’s also what makes you so terribly sweet.” Gou pressed a kiss to his scarred cheek and slowly pulled back. “Promise we won’t lose touch again. I want to be a part of your life, whatever may happen. Please don’t shut me out again.”

He grabbed her hands and pressed them to his chest, nodding. “I swear, Gou. I’m so sorry. For everything. I was so stupid back then... well, I still am. I hope you’ll forgive me and continue being my friend.”

Gou laughed, grinning from ear to ear. “Of course, silly. I’m just so happy to see you.” She pulled back, her eyes glittering as she looked him over. “Look at you! You look delectable!”

Makoto flushed red, but he grinned at her compliment. He told her about how he was dancing at the club now, and his friends here, how this place had been like his second home for the past few years. She asked him a million questions, smiling proudly at every answer he gave.

When she asked, he shyly showed off a photo of him and Raphael. She leaned in, red hair blocking his view of his phone, her head bobbing. “He’s hot! Good job, Makoto! Is he sweet to you?”

He thought it was funny that everyone asked that, but it was easy to see why. “Yes, almost too sweet sometimes,” he said with a proud, little smile.

She looked back up at him and grinned, glancing around the club before asking quietly, “And what about Sousuke?”

His face fell and he went silent. His eyes dropped to the photo of Raphael and he was sure she could read perfectly well what he was feeling. The guilt, the pain, the jealousy. He was dragging Raphael along because he refused to accept that Sousuke was still a huge part of his heart. No, it wasn’t that he refused to accept it, it was that he was scared, petrified of being hurt again. He wanted stable, something he could rely on, and that’s what his relationship with Raphael was. That didn’t make it right, but it was what Makoto thought he needed. He pressed his lips together, his eyes going a little wet.

He was startled out of his own thoughts when Sousuke walked up to the bar, tapping his order book down. “I need two whiskey sours and a martini, please.” Makoto’s head shot up and he let out a little hiccuping gasp of surprise. His eyes met Sousuke’s, and he couldn’t even think to rearrange his face into a different expression. Sousuke dipped down, face slipping to concern as he demanded, “What’s wrong?”

Makoto’s eyes went wide; he couldn’t look away from Sousuke. Flashes of their kiss replayed in his head. Gou sighed beside him but it felt miles away.

“He’s fine, Sou, we’re just talking.”

Sousuke’s eyes registered disbelief, but slowly he stood up straight again. “Don’t torment Makoto,” he scolded Gou. The ties he had with Gou ran deeper between the two childhood friends. Makoto suddenly wasn’t sure if he could tell Gou his real feelings, but as soon as Sousuke was gone with his order, she leaned over and said, “I get it.”

Wide green eyes snapped to her face, and she smiled encouragingly. “He’s a big doofus, but he was your first love. I’m sure he’s doing something stupid now by working here. He’s got a good heart, but he doesn’t think about anything for more than a few seconds, and he makes the worst calls.”

Makoto’s head dropped back down, wondering if it was okay to keep going this way. Somewhere in the club, Sousuke was probably getting hit on, having tips shoved in his pants. Makoto hadn’t missed the bills fluttering in his waistband when he’d come to get drink orders.

“He seems popular here.”

“Of course he is,” whispered Makoto bitterly, unable to control his tone.

“Oh,” whispered Gou, then, “Ohh...” as realization dawned on her. “Makoto, are you jealous?” she whispered fiercely as she leaned in to his ear.

“No!” he yelped defensively, but when his head shot up, he saw she didn’t believe him for a minute. She laughed and grinned wide, winking. “Why would I be jealous of Sousuke?” he muttered, pouting.

“You’re not jealous of him, but the attention he’s receiving, though,” she chortled, reading him like an open book. Makoto frowned and fell silent. A warm hand ruffled his hair, and she pulled him into a side hug. She gave a small laugh, and if he’d seen her face, he would have seen the knowing smile she had on her lips. She knew exactly how this would play out, because she knew her two best friends. Some loves could never be forgotten no matter how hard one tried. “But don’t you think it’s cruel to Matsumoto?” she asked quietly as she pulled back. Makoto felt the words like an arrow to his guilt, and he gave a small nod.

“Of course it is,” he whispered, “but without him, I don’t have any reason to not...” _fall head over heels with Sousuke again._

“Hmm,” Gou hummed. “Isn’t it a bit too late for that already...”

Makoto turned, missing her words, but she smiled at him and patted his cheek.

“Makoto,” called a voice softly to his right, and he turned to find Kisumi standing a few steps away. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time.”

Makoto turned back to Gou, and she lit up. “Are you going to go dance?!” He nodded, blushing to his ears. She grinned at him.

“I can’t wait,” she said as she shuffled back to her seat with her friends, excitedly sharing the news. The whole club heard them squeal, and Makoto couldn’t help but smile as he slipped off to back stage. Aqua eyes caught his for a split second; Sousuke would be watching him, he knew. He felt a shiver down his spine. Kisumi rubbed his cheeks roughly and smiled at him as they waited just off stage.

“You look miserable. Wasn’t that your old friend? She’s gorgeous!”

“Yeah,” he murmured proudly. “Don’t get any ideas,” he warned Kisumi, grinning at him. Kisumi laughed, patted his cheek. “There you go. Go out there and kill ‘em, sexy.”

He smacked Makoto’s butt as the music changed, and Makoto slipped out into hot, bathing lights, and a captive audience. Everyone was here to watch him. If he squinted he could see Gou. He grabbed the pole and did a slow walk around it. He turned so his back faced it when he’d done his full 360, hand above his head as he slowly dipped his head down, bending his body over backwards as the crowd hooted and hollered. He spread his legs and slowly stood back up, ready to climb the pole. A pair of eyes caught his own through the haze of lights and people. The music picked up and so did Makoto’s heart. Mindlessly, he danced his routine, but his whole brain was stuck on Sousuke. Every move he made was a story he was desperately trying to tell, but no matter how hard he tried, someone else caught the man’s attention and his eyes slipped away from Makoto.

_Watch me, watch me! I want to be the one you can’t look away from._

He was putting in too much effort, he knew. He was already sweating and he wasn’t even halfway done with his performance. He’d be tired soon, but he powered through, dancing the best he ever had, to the maximum of his abilities, and yet he continued to feel those eyes slip away and slip back, distracted, others vying for his attention. By the time Makoto bowed, panting heavily and legs and arms ready to give out, his stomach and heart were a pit of frustration and jealousy. He walked off stage and collapsed behind the curtains, clutching at his chest as he tried to regulate his breathing and heartbeat.

“Wow, Makoto!” hushed Nagisa as he dropped to his knees beside the man. “You were breathtaking! I couldn’t take my eyes off you for a minute!”

The words bit at Makoto’s heart, spiking his churning feelings. He knew he was being irrational; Sousuke had customers. It was his job to attend to them. But his eyes always left Makoto. It reminded Makoto of before. It was painful; it was pitiful. Back then, too, he’d been so in love with Sousuke but Sousuke had barely looked his way. He’d begged and pleaded for attention but in the end, Sousuke had left like it was nothing at all. Nothing had changed. Makoto couldn’t rid himself of the fear of being left even as Sousuke pursued him endlessly, chased after him. 

He was convinced he couldn’t captivate Sousuke, not now, and certainly not for the rest of their lives. As much as he wanted this beating heart to be proof of a lifetime love, he couldn’t think that Sousuke would feel the same forever. It was frustrating; how was he supposed to capture a man he wanted so badly, but had no hold on? As much as he tried, he couldn’t think of any way to ensure that, this time, Sousuke would stay. Because in the end, it came down to Sousuke’s feelings, Sousuke’s heart, and Makoto didn’t have the confidence to capture it wholly. He really didn’t think he could... or that he already had.

Gou was waiting outside in the hallway with a huge smile on her face, gushing over Makoto’s performance. He sank against her, so tired, and she gave a sound of surprise, but quickly hugged him to her.

“I’m tired, Gou,” he whispered. He slipped off his shoes and tiredly gathered them. His weary green eyes looked at Gou.

“Why don’t you take him back to our break room?” Nagisa suggested to Gou, rushing past to get ready for his own performance. Gou looked at Makoto with her steady gaze, and he slowly nodded. She took his hand as he pointed out the way, trailing behind her.

“You tried too hard,” she said as he sat down on the bench closest to his locker. She sighed and muttered, “Two big, dumb idiots.” Makoto didn’t hear her. She grabbed a towel from the locker he pointed out as his own, and sank down to rub the sweat off his back and face.

“I don’t know what else to do,” he whispered as his forehead dropped to her shoulder. She quietly wiped him down, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words. She helped him stand, helped him tug off his crop top and bottoms, giving a small smile at his underwear choice.

“Mako-“

Tiredly, the brunet looked up at the voice that had broken the silence between them, Gou’s hands on his body, still wiping him off with the towel. In the doorway stood Seijuro, mouth still open like he’d frozen while calling Makoto’s name. But his eyes weren’t on Makoto. Slowly, Makoto glanced down to Gou, who looked unconcerned as she finished her job. She pulled back and gave him a smile.

“All done,” she said like she didn’t know anyone else was there. She patted his cheek and set down his towel. “Text me later,” she said as she turned to the door, Seijuro still standing and staring like a statue. When she looked up at the redhead and gave him a smile as she passed around him, he suddenly snapped back to life, head whipping around to follow her out. The door shut behind her and Seijuro slowly turned back to Makoto.

“Hey,” he said like he hadn’t just had a big moment.

Makoto sat down on the bench behind him and gave a little laugh, wondering how it was so easy for some people and so hard for others.

“Hey,” he called. 

x

He’d been sitting on the idea for a few days now, but the more he thought about it, the more sure he was that his suspicions were correct. He opened the conversation thread with Gou that had been very lively these past few days, and wrote out a message for her.

_Hey, you’re not dating anyone, are you?_

Her response came a few minutes later, which was fairly normal. _lol, no. Why?_

_How do you feel about blind dates?_

This time her response was a little slower. _I’m not opposed if it’s coming from you, but do I at least get to know who it is? Do I know him?_

Makoto thought about that, wiggling his fingers over the keyboard. _Not... exactly..._

This time she was quicker on the uptake. _Is it that guy that came to pick you up at the club, the one you’re rooming with?_

_Because if it is, I’m down._

Makoto covered his mouth with his hand and tried to conceal his giggle. Seijuro looked up with curious eyes, and Makoto had to bite back a big smile.

“Hey, Sei,” he said as calmly as he could, but it was hard for him to hide his excitement. “What are you doing this Friday night?”

Seijuro’s eyes narrowed in thought, but he shrugged and said, “Nothing much, why?” 

“How does a date sound?”

Seijuro sat up a little straighter, puffing out his chest. “With you? Are you finally leaving Matsumoto for me?” he asked with a cheesy grin.

“No,” Makoto sighed as he rolled his eyes. He smiled at Seijuro. “It’s a surprise.” 

Seijuro sat back again, eyeing Makoto up. Finally, he gave a slow, “Okay... I’ll trust you.”

The brunet picked up his phone again and typed out, _Friday night._ She sent a little smiling emoji and he added, _Tell him it’s my way of saying thanks when you see him._

Gou sent a million new emojis, begging for details, but Makoto was cryptic and vague. Seijuro was still watching him, trying to figure the mystery out.

He was sure he hadn’t mistaken the way Seijuro had looked at Gou, and he thought it was high time he found someone to dote on aside from Makoto. Gou deserved a guy like Sei, and he deserved a girl like her. He just knew they’d be so good together. He hoped it worked out, and that it temporarily distracted him from his own troubles.

x

Kisumi took one look at Makoto and whispered in horror, “What have you done to your face?”

Makoto groaned and rubbed at the dark bags under his eyes. “I’m fine,” he quietly snapped back, annoyed.

Kisumi’s eyes went wide, and he stared at Makoto. “I’ve never, ever seen you in a bad mood...”

Makoto’s eyes darted away. He could barely stomach the thought of putting on the red and white lingerie that had been picked out for him, let alone getting on stage to dance. He’d been pushing it down, but every work shift felt like torture to him lately. He’d tried gritting his teeth through them, but the dream he’d had last night had woken him up in a cold sweat, and he hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. He could still remember the heat of Sousuke’s touch, his words against Makoto’s neck; needless to say, the moment Makoto had seen Sousuke’s face today, his mood had crashed down into the pits of hell, and that was really saying a lot for someone like him. Kisumi was right; he’d never been in such a bad mood before at work.

“Stay here,” sighed Kisumi as he marched out in his heels, the sound headed to their boss’ office. He was back a few minutes later, thrusting a familiar uniform at Makoto. Then he grabbed the man and pulled him into a hug. “Help Rei behind the bar today. Anyone who sits at the bar doesn’t care if you smile. It’ll be better than forcing it on the floor, right?”

Makoto nodded, thankful, gripping at Kisumi’s back.

“And at least wear the panties; Nagisa picked that outfit out for you.”

Makoto pulled back with a sad smile; he hated to disappoint the blond, but he couldn’t stomach it, not tonight.

“Do you have someone to talk to? It doesn’t have to be me, but I’m here.”

Makoto gave a small nod, eyes on the lingerie still. He picked up the ruched panties and hugged them to his chest. A warm hand cupped his cheek and Makoto’s eyes flicked back to Kisumi, who looked sad and torn.

“If there’s anything I can do... I hated myself for not being able to help when you were dating that douchebag, so I want to do whatever I can if you ever need someone.”

Makoto nodded again, giving a weak smile. “It’s just my thoughts that are dragging me down this time.”

Kisumi sighed softly and patted Makoto’s shoulder. “Don’t worry too much tonight. Or, well, I’m sure Rei will let you sneak a drink if you need it.”

Kisumi turned on his heel, and Makoto nodded thankfully at his back. He rubbed at his eyes again, panties still clutched in his hand. He didn’t know if he could do this tonight, but he had to. He pulled on his old uniform, red panties underneath, and marched himself out to the bar with blinders on his peripheral vision.

“Rei,” he whispered, and the man turned and took one look at him.

“Holy shit, Makoto.” He whipped around and poured him a shot of top shelf tequila. “It’s on me, but drink this before the boss comes.”

Makoto knocked the shot back and shivered. If he could just ignore what was happening out on the floor, he would be okay, but he could already hear the customers at the door begging to be seated at Sousuke’s table. He grimaced and turned towards the back wall, focusing on tying his apron.

“Need help?”

Makoto whirled around, shocked to find Sousuke leaning over the bar, looking very worried. The moment he saw Makoto’s face, he went silent. Behind them, people were calling Sousuke’s name, and Sousuke’s eyes flicked to the side to see who it was. Anger rose like heat inside Makoto’s chest, and he had to bite back a frown. He turned instead to Rei, who helped him silently tie his apron around his waist.

“Sousuke, they’re starting to let customers in. Go greet your first table.” Rei shooed the tall, dark-haired man away. Aqua eyes flicked over his shoulder, but Makoto was ignoring him. He clenched his fists into his shirt and tried to regain his control. The alcohol made his head swim. He didn’t want to be so nasty, but all he could remember was Sousuke, hot, on top of him, calling his name, and the reality was that he could never have Sousuke like that, not when he was petrified that he’d wake up one day and find that Sousuke was leaving him again. In his mind, Sousuke hadn’t changed at all, no matter how much he could see the change in him otherwise. In his mind, all he could see was Sousuke’s back turned to him and that horrible, gut-wrenching, heart-clenching feeling of realizing he’d given everything and the man had never given two shits about him.

With every order Sousuke brought to the bar, he would always make a beeline for Makoto, but Rei was crafty and quick, and he would intercept them all. He tried to keep Makoto busy with mixing, with pulling down bottles and cleaning glasses, anything to keep his eyes off the scene on the floor before them. Every glimpse Makoto caught, on accident or purpose, sank his heart into his gut. Sousuke was so damn popular that it really wasn’t fair at all. 

The customers that used to fawn over Makoto were now going gaga over Sousuke. They touched his arms and his abs, they grabbed his hands and looked at him with doe eyes. And Sousuke, bless his heart, was attentive because it was his job. Makoto hated it; as much as that part of Sousuke was one of the main things he had always adored about the man, when it wasn’t directed at him, it tore him to pieces. Makoto realized with a bitter twist that he had become a bitter, ugly, possessive person inside. He hated it, but he couldn’t help it. He loved Sousuke still, so much, but he was terrified. He wanted him, but his heart wouldn’t allow him to have the man. The conflicting feelings tore Makoto up inside.

Most of all, though, he was petrified of being rejected, or left alone. He couldn’t go through it again. His life had dealt him too many bad hands already. The happiness he could have with Sousuke was outweighed by the possibility that he would leave again. It wasn’t... possible to love Sousuke. It shouldn’t have happened again.

The man couldn’t leave him alone.

Three hours into Makoto’s shift, and five shots later of whatever Rei had in his hand at the moment, Makoto was ready to crumble to the floor, a mess.

“Why don’t you call Seijuro and go home for tonight?” Rei said as he covered Makoto’s shaking hand with his own, his eyes dark behind his glasses, lips set. It wasn’t really a request or an option. He was telling Makoto to go home.

Makoto gave a shaky nod and slowly turned to walk around the bar and to the break room. At his locker, he sank to the floor and began to sob, breath-stealing, chest-seizing sobs. He couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to. The only thing he could do was clap a hand over his mouth and try to muffle his voice.

When big, warm arms curled around him, he didn’t question it for a moment. He leaned into the chest offered and clung to the white shirt. When his nose began to clear up, his body tuning back into his surroundings, he slowly pulled away and backed away on the floor. Sousuke’s arms swayed open from where Makoto had vacated them. His face was pale, his eyes staring off into space. Slowly, he turned to look at Makoto with the most haunting eyes.

“I did something wrong again, didn’t I?”

“Don’t-“ begged Makoto in a broken voice. “Don’t say that...” 

“Please tell me how to fix this-“

“It’s not your fault! Not everything-“ Makoto pressed his lips together, eyes shutting tight. “Please don’t apologize for everything like that...”

“But if I did something to upset you, I want to know so I can make it right-“

“Stop!” screamed Makoto, tugging at his hair and covering his ears. He curled up. He couldn’t take this anymore. This Sousuke, who was so different than he’d been before, tore him apart on the inside. This was a Sousuke that he’d always dreamed of, but it was too late now, far too late. Makoto couldn’t want this Sousuke. He shouldn’t be falling so madly in love with this man who’d torn his heart to little bitty pieces, who’d made him want to start all over, who’d driven him to this place and stolen from him- No, it wasn’t Sousuke’s fault. But everything would have been so different if Sousuke had never left. If Makoto’d never fallen in love in the first place. What would he lose this time if he loved Sousuke again, if Sousuke left him... again...? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He didn’t want to lose a single other thing.

“Makoto-!”

He couldn’t stand the way Sousuke said his name now, like he was the whole world, like this time he was the one tearing Sousuke apart. He clutched at his ears and begged the throbbing in his head to stop. His eyes burned, too many tears shed.

“It’s just me! It’s my own fault! You’ve done nothing wrong, so please... please just leave me alone!”

Arms wrapped around him again and this time Sousuke wasn’t letting him go. “I can’t do that. I’m sorry, but it’s the one thing I won’t do. I won’t leave you again. Please just tell me... what’s wrong?”

Makoto voice broke on a sob, and he went slack against Sousuke’s shoulder. He clung to the man’s shirt and sobbed his heart out. He couldn’t say the words, not to Sousuke. He could barely admit it aloud to himself. But when Sousuke asked again, he found the words coming out anyways.

“I’m so jealous! You and your goddamn fans. I hate the way they cling to you, the way they call your name! Why are you giving them your time and attention? Why are you like this now when you never did those things for me-! All of that time should have been mine-“

“I know,” murmured Sousuke, his voice hollow and sad. “I know. You’re right.”

“Everyone loves you here and it’s so infuriating that they just touch you and flirt with you and you don’t say a single thing to stop them.”

“They’re customers...”

Makoto knew he would think that way. He couldn’t say Sousuke was wrong either; he had felt the same way before. But to Makoto, it was different, because it was Sousuke, because it was someone who used to be _his_. No, he should have been his, but he never really was. That was what it boiled down to...

Makoto pressed his face harder to Sousuke shoulder and he whispered, “It tears me apart that I never meant as much to you as those random people out there. Back then... you just left me so easily, and since then I’ve been so... so very alone. You left me so alone.”

“I’m so sorry, Makoto. I was so... _stupid_ back then. I was an imbecile, but I didn’t know what I had when you were mine. I am so... sorry.”

And he did sound sorry. He sounded torn up about it like Makoto felt inside. “But... you’re not alone anymore...”

Makoto shook his head violently and pushed Sousuke away, his sadness shifting to anger. “You don’t know! You don’t know how alone I became! I was here all by myself! Everything I loved, the things I was so sure would never leave me- I’m all alone in this world and I’ve been trying so desperately to fill a hole in my heart but there’s _nothing_ -!”

Makoto clutched at his own shirt now and let out a sobbing scream. He could barely take it; memories flashed back like they were all new. He could remember how it had felt when he’d gotten that phone call from the police, the one that had torn his soul out of his body. He’d been waiting for his parents to show up, waiting, waiting, worrying, and the call he’d never wanted to get, the words he’d never wanted to hear, had come. Even now, he still felt the way it killed him inside. He would never see his parents again. He would never have a family again. He would never get his mom’s hugs or his dad’s quiet praise. He would never get to eat his favorite meals with his parents, or call them to talk about his day. He couldn’t go home because there was no longer a home to go to. He was... alone. In a way that Sousuke would never understand, he was utterly alone.

“What about Haru and Rin...? And Gou?” Sousuke’s face looked wounded and confused. His hands hung useless in the air. “What about... your mom and dad?”

Makoto’s mind shut down, and when he looked up at Sousuke again with his dead eyes, with his slack mouth, Sousuke jerked back, eyes going round as saucers. Quietly, Makoto told Sousuke what the man had missed while he was gone.

“I left home when you went to America. I couldn’t do it; everything there reminded me of you. I came here, spent all of my savings, and just when I thought I’d go hungry, I happened to wander down the street outside and I met the boss. I didn’t talk to anyone. For a whole year, I didn’t reply to any texts, I didn’t call anyone. I just wanted to start over; I wanted to forget you.”

“One night, around Christmas I broke down, I was so miserable and alone. I was homesick... I was depressed. But I texted my mom and they dropped everything to come see me. They’d been waiting to hear from me; they didn’t have a clue where I was. Can you imagine, for so long, not even knowing where your only son has gone off to, or why? It started snowing and I waited, I waited for them to come. Time passed so slow that night, and I got worried... Finally my phone rang, but it was a voice I didn’t recognize. Do you know what that man told me?”

Makoto’s eyes drilled into Sousuke. He was crying, but his face didn’t change. Sousuke was pale. He didn’t look well. Makoto had felt like he looked for years now... For years, he’d felt empty and alone and hollow inside.

“He said, “Sir, I regret to inform you, but your parents were in an accident and they’ve passed away. We need you... to come identify their bodies.””

Makoto let out a tiny sound, a most broken sound, like precious china breaking on a tile floor. He rubbed his fist over his heart, where he ached so terribly. “I’m alone, Sousuke. I’m very alone. My family is gone. I don’t have a home to go to anymore. This hole in my heart... I cannot fix it.”

Sousuke was silent. What was someone supposed to say to that? But the tears slipping down his face were enough. Sousuke had never shed a single tear for Makoto before, back then; his tears spoke more than his words ever could. Makoto’s face pulled into the saddest expression and he began to cry again. He’d never told anyone, no one but Seijuro, but Sousuke had known his parents. Sousuke had been there. Did he blame himself? Was he blaming himself right now? Makoto sank against the lockers behind him and cried. He didn’t fight it when strong arms pulled him up and into Sousuke’s lap, when Sousuke held him so tight that there was barely room to breathe. He didn’t say a word, but they just cried together. More than anything else, this was the most therapeutic thing for Makoto. No one had been there to cry with him when it had happened; he’d cried alone. He’d been the only one crying this whole time, but now Sousuke was crying with him, mourning with him. Someone was sharing his loss, sharing the heavy load of it. For the first time in years, Makoto felt like he could _breathe_.

“Don’t blame yourself for this,” Makoto whispered. “I couldn’t bear it if you did. This was... no one’s fault. It’s too heavy a burden to bear, trust me, I know. It’s too much to think you caused two people to die...”

“Okay,” murmured Sousuke, his voice heavy. He rubbed at Makoto’s back, speechless for the rest. And that was okay. What good would an apology do anyways? If this had been the Sousuke from back then, would he have cried? Would he have apologized?

Makoto slowly pulled away, looked into Sousuke’s messy face. “This is why...” he whispered. “If you ever left me again, I couldn’t-“

“Yeah,” rushed Sousuke. “I promise, though-“ His voice broke; he looked lost. Who wouldn’t be? The whole situation was so out of his hands, and yet... did he still want Makoto?

“I don’t know if a promise is enough. Not... not from you...” Makoto looked down, hating that he had to say it, but it was how he felt.

“I... understand,” Sousuke said quietly. They were quiet for a while, until Sousuke gripped Makoto’s hands, green eyes shifting up again. “I understand, but I cannot let this end like that. I cannot let you go without fighting with everything I’ve got. Makoto, you don’t know how much I need you. I love you. Whatever I have to do to prove to you... Makoto, I swear on my life I will never leave you.”

Makoto slowly pulled his hands away, shaking his head. “I can’t,” he croaked out. “I just can’t.” 

“Makoto, tell me you don’t love me anymore. If you tell me, I’ll... I could try to give up.”

 _Oh_. That he couldn’t say. He could try to lie, but that would be much more of an omission than silence. He pressed his lips together and stared silently at Sousuke. He watched his eyes go big, watched his face fill with just a little bit of hope.

“Makoto, if you still love me, then why-“

“I can’t.” Makoto shook his head. There was no way he could just get over everything that had happened. “You don’t know... what it felt like to give someone everything and watch them turn their back on you. You don’t know. And that’s why I can’t.”

Sousuke went silent, his face shifting into a steel determination. “Okay,” he said in his deep, strong voice. Makoto shivered. “I won’t give up, Makoto. For the rest of my life, I’ll never give up.”

Makoto clutched at his shirt, not sure what to do in the face of Sousuke’s most earnest feelings. The man shifted on his legs, pulling himself up.

“I’ll clock out and take you home tonight.”

Makoto shook his head and slowly pulled out his phone. He opened his text messages and clicked on Raphael’s name.

_Can you come pick me up at work? I don’t feel good._

Sousuke silently watched Makoto, watched him type. “Did you text Mikoshiba?” Makoto shook his head again.

“Matsumoto?”

Makoto looked up at Sousuke’s steely face. What was that look in his eyes?

“I’ll wait here with you for him to come.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I’m not leaving you.” It was the end of that discussion. There was no arguing against Sousuke’s determination. He shuffled over to sit beside Makoto, their backs to the cold lockers. Outside of the break room, music pounded, but inside, it was quiet. Makoto shut his eyes. It was almost peaceful. The weight he’d carried for so long by himself had been shared with someone, and his load was lessened. He still missed his parents something fierce, but he hadn’t realized that he’d been carrying it all by himself, that it was physically wearing him down. He rested his head back and focused on just breathing. Sousuke’s breathing mixed with his own, quiet, peaceful. Makoto didn’t fight it when Sousuke’s hand slipped into his, when he intertwined their fingers and held his hand.

Raphael found them like that, just sitting quietly. He bent down to his knees before Makoto and cupped his face in his warm hands. Sousuke sat up a little straighter beside Makoto, and blue eyes shifted over to the man. There was a look on Raphael’s face like he already knew what Sousuke was going to say before he said it.

“Please let Makoto go.”

There was no hesitation in the request. Makoto shot up and pushed Sousuke away in an effort to silence him, but Sousuke would not move. He bowed his head to Raphael as he said, “I am madly in love with Makoto, and so I’m begging you, please. Please let him go.”

Raphael’s eyes were wide as they shifted from Sousuke to Makoto. Makoto was shaking his head, eyes wide. He clung to Raphael’s arm. Silently, Raphael scooped him up into his arms, standing to his feet. Sousuke rose too, his head still lowered.

“I love him too,” Raphael said when Sousuke didn’t move.

“I understand,” Sousuke said, nodding his head deeper. “I understand that, but still, I have to ask you to let him go. I need him.”

Raphael’s arms tightened on Makoto, but he didn’t say anything else. Slowly, Sousuke raised his head and walked himself out. He’d said all he could. Makoto couldn’t believe Sousuke had bowed his head and begged like that. What did he mean by breaking up Raphael and Makoto? Was it selfishness? Or was it his pure desire? There had been no ill motive in Sousuke’s voice. He hadn’t said it to hurt Raphael or Makoto. Makoto wasn’t sure how it made him feel, for Sousuke to ask Raphael to let the man go.

Slowly, Raphael set Makoto down, helping him out of his uniform. His warm hands lingered on soft, bare skin, and Makoto realized very suddenly that this had to be the last time. Sousuke hadn’t said it, but he’d been trying to do Makoto a favor, hadn’t he? Knowing that Makoto loved him, he was trying to spare them both from pain and a nasty break-up in the end. Makoto felt oddly at peace when Raphael raised his head to meet Makoto’s eyes.

“I love you, Makoto.” He wasn’t begging. He was just letting Makoto know. In a way, he was giving Makoto the choice now. How long had Raphael known that Makoto’s feelings had been wavering? How long had he sat with the realization that Makoto didn’t love him the same way he loved Makoto? Makoto pursed his lips, tears coming again.

Raphael smiled softly as he stroked Makoto’s tears away. “Don’t look so sad, _mon ange_.”

“I’m so sorry, Raphael...”

The blond man let out a slow, soft sigh, nodding. “I am as well.”

“You were so good to me, but I don’t deserve you. You don’t deserve to be dragged along by me when I’m like this...”

“You will always be my most precious little angel.” Raphael said to silence Makoto’s self-doubt, as he leaned forward and kissed Makoto’s cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Raphael.”

Raphael took Makoto’s hands, shaking his head softly. “You love him, don’t you?”

Makoto’s eyes went wide, but slowly, slowly, he nodded. After a long silence, he whispered, “I always have, and I think I always will.”

“Then I hope he can make you happy-“ Makoto’s lips twisted into the saddest frown, and Raphael’s words fell away.

“Don’t you plan to be with him?” he asked quietly, more calm than he should be for the fact that he was losing the man he loved. But Raphael knew that showing his true emotion would only hurt Makoto. It wouldn’t change his mind. Raphael had seen this coming for a while now.

“I don’t,” whispered Makoto.

“Even though you love him...” Raphael whispered sadly.

Makoto gave a smile, cheeks red and wet. “Maybe it’s because I love him so much.”

Raphael pressed his lips together. “I don’t understand, but if you want to end it with me, I will let you go.”

“Yes,” whispered Makoto, dread filling his heart even as he knew that this was the right thing, the fair thing. He didn’t want to let Raphael go, a good man, the kindest man, but it was so cruel to drag this on. “I’m very sorry. It’s just not fair to you... since I love Sousuke.”

“Yeah,” said Raphael with a smile. He lowered his head and kissed Makoto’s knuckles. “I hope one day he can make you happy. Or maybe someone else. But I hope that you are happy in your life, Makoto. You deserve at least that much.”

Makoto choked up as he whispered, “Thank you, Raphael. Our time together meant more than I can say, and I’m so grateful to you...”

“Was I able to make you smile?”

Makoto looked up at the blond with wet eyes. He cupped Raphael’s face and smiled earnestly. “You made me so happy.”

Raphael sighed in great relief and smiled too, his eyes shutting as he nuzzled into Makoto’s palms. “Can I kiss you one last time?” he asked sweetly, eyes fluttering open. He looked so beautiful, so sad, and yet so hopeful for Makoto. Makoto really had never deserved this man.

Makoto nodded, giving a tiny smile. “I’d like that...” he whispered as a hand combed into his hair, as he was gently pulled into a kiss. Raphael’s lips were sweet and soft. His kiss was warm. He kissed Makoto with all of his feelings, with his overwhelming love and his sadness. With a strong, warm arm around Makoto’s waist, he lifted the man up and caressed his skin. Ah, Makoto would miss the way Raphael made him feel, but he was doing the right thing.

Slowly, Raphael pulled away, letting Makoto’s body go. “Would you like me to drive you home, or do you want to call Seijuro?”

“You’ve already done enough,” whispered Makoto. “I’ll call Seijuro.” 

“This is not goodbye,” Raphael said quickly, trying to make sure.

“Maybe just for a while...” whispered Makoto, and Raphael nodded slowly. He gave a big smile and said, “After all, you’re too tempting and kind.”

Raphael gave a crooked smile, a small laugh. Makoto hoped that made him feel a little better. He rubbed Makoto’s hair but quickly pulled away, looking like he might change his mind if he touched Makoto for too long.

“I truly hope you find your happiness.”

“You as well,” whispered Makoto. Raphael nodded, slowly turning away.

“Goodbye, beautiful,” he said as he walked out the door, a sad smile on his lips. Makoto sank down to the bench behind him. He had no energy left. He laid down on the hard bench and shut his eyes. He would just rest for a moment.

When he woke up again, it was to Seijuro softly combing his hair, a jacket laid over Makoto’s body.

“Sousuke called me,” he said quietly. Slowly, Makoto sat up, hugging what smelled like Sousuke’s jacket to himself. “You look tired.”

Makoto nodded, slipping his feet down to the cold floor. “I’ll get dressed,” he told Seijuro, the man standing and moving out of the room quietly. Makoto pulled his jeans and sweater on, carefully laying out Sousuke’s jacket and slipping on his own; he paused and rubbed his hand over the leather of the old coat. He remembered this jacket; it was nostalgic. He’d always wanted Sousuke to offer him to wear it. Who would have thought the first time he would would be here and now. Makoto smiled softly.

He didn’t know if he was doing the right thing. The ache of Raphael leaving was heavier than he’d thought. But even as he rubbed at Sousuke’s jacket, he knew he would never love anyone as much as he loved this stupid, foolish man. He wasn’t sure if Sousuke would ever be able to convince him that he wouldn’t leave, but either way, Makoto had to learn to be okay by himself.

He sighed and wrapped his scarf around his neck, buttoning up his winter coat. Seijuro was waiting quietly just outside, and he smiled softly when he saw Makoto. The brunet slipped his hand around Seijuro’s arm. Quietly, they walked out, headed home.

“Thank you for giving me this home,” Makoto whispered as they stepped through the front door.

Seijuro turned with mild surprise on his face, but he smiled. “Thank you for making this house a home.”

“Why don’t you sleep in the bed tonight,” Makoto offered, and Seijuro swept Makoto up.

“If you say so,” Seijuro grinned cheekily. Makoto let out a sound, but he didn’t have the heart to tell Seijuro that’s not what he’d meant as the man walked him to the bedroom. A warm body next to his would be nice tonight. Makoto didn’t want to be alone.


	28. Don’t Want To Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DATE TIME /dances

Seijuro had spent the whole date wondering how this was real life, and how had Makoto known? He felt like he’d been pretty stealthy about it, but when he’d shown up at the restaurant and seen the beauty from the club sitting at a table waiting for him, he’d thought he was dreaming. She’d introduced herself as Gou, and Seijuro was having a hard time remembering the rest. Her eyes... were really pretty. _She_ was really pretty. He felt a little bit like a potato walking beside her now.

“I had a great time, Seijuro,” Gou said with an easy smile that could make or break a man. He sighed in relief and thought he’d never been this unsavvy. “Me, too.”

She laughed as she slipped her hand into his, watching him go bright red. He stared down at this tiny creature that was ruining him. He’d have to thank Makoto later.

“Well, this is me,” she said as she pointed up at an apartment building. She turned to Seijuro and smiled.

“I’ll walk you up to your door,” he said without thinking, and when she laughed, he blurted out, “I mean, not to do anything bad, but I’d like to-“

She smiled, stealing his breath away. “It’s okay. I get it. I didn’t want to say goodbye yet either.”

In silence, they walked up two flights of stairs and to her apartment door. There, they both stopped, Gou turning to face Seijuro. Yeah, he really didn’t want to say goodbye.

“I’d invite you in, but my roommates are probably sleeping,” she said with a soft smile, reaching out to put her hand on his arm.

“Oh,” he whispered, momentarily distracted by her touch. “No, that’s okay,” he said without really knowing what he was replying to. His eyes had slipped to her full lips and now all normal thought had stopped in his brain. When she leaned up and forward, his brain really malfunctioned. Did she want him to kiss her?

He didn’t have time to consider it. His body was moving to meet hers before he’d even given it permission to. His hand slipped to her waist and his lips sank against hers. Oh, she tasted so sweet, and her lips were warm and soft. His hand slid further around her to her back, and he pulled her to him, forgetting what he should do for what he wanted to. She gripped his arm tighter with one hand, sliding it up over his muscles, her other coming around his neck as she returned the kiss. He couldn’t help the sound that escaped his throat as their kiss deepened.

Slowly, they pulled away, neither really wanting to let go, but it was getting late and it was only their first date, and holy cow, he wanted to...

“God, please go out with me,” he begged breathlessly, unwilling to let go of the grip he had around her slim waist.

“Yes,” she whispered back, gorgeous ruby eyes glittering in the light. Seijuro let out a nervous, disbelieving laugh. He released her and took a step back, and that was when he noticed someone standing stock still in front of them. Gou turned with wide eyes, until she saw who it was. “Fuck, you scared me,” she whispered.

Rin wasn’t having any of that, though. “What the fuck is this?” he asked coolly, sizing up Seijuro like he didn’t know who the man was.

Gou sighed and grabbed at Seijuro’s arm. “We went on a date. Makoto set it up for us. And now we’re dating.”

Rin’s face flared red and his eyes flashed like fire. “Makoto did this?” he asked, tone icy.

“Don’t you dare-“ seethed Gou as she stepped up to her brother, still holding on to Seijuro, “get mad at him. I’m twenty, I can make my own decisions, and I told him I wanted to.”

Rin let out a slow exhale. “I’m not mad about it,” he said even as he grit his teeth. Gou rolled her eyes, but this time Seijuro spoke up.

“If I may?” Rin’s eyes flashed to Seijuro, but Rin didn’t make him nervous like Gou did. “I swear I’ll treat her like a queen, and if I ever hurt her, I give you permission to come do whatever you want to me.”

Gou let out a sweet noise, but Seijuro’s words also seemed to calm Rin down. “I’ll take you up on that offer,” he said as his eyes shifted back to Gou. “And you-“

Gou rolled her eyes again. “What are you even doing here, nii-chan?” she asked, a good distraction.

“Haru made too much dinner and told me to come bring you some food. I guess you don’t need it though.”

Gou laughed, turning to Seijuro and smiling. “Nope, but I’ll take it for lunch tomorrow.”

Rin handed off his food and slowly moved away from them, eyes watchful as Gou shooed him off.

“Sorry about him,” she said with a frown, but Seijuro shook his head and smiled. “I get it. You’re his little sister and I’m the big, bad guy.”

Gou grinned, grabbing at Seijuro’s biceps again. “I like big, bad guys.”

“Lucky for me,” he whispered as she reached up to kiss him again.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said with a sweet smile as she pulled back, Haru’s food tucked to her chest. “Want me to come bring you some lunch?” she joked.

“Yeah,” Seijuro said. “Actually,” he added with a lopsided smile, and she laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“You should bring a swimsuit,” he blurted out.

“I don’t swim,” she said with a laugh. “My brother got all the swimming genes.” “Well... okay,” Seijuro said, at a loss.

“Don’t look so disappointed! I’m an excellent manager if you ever need someone to yell at you about your time.”

Seijuro tilted his head and smiled wide. “Well, it’s not like something like that would have been a deal breaker anyways.”

“I feel like you’re trying to compliment me somehow,” she joked. 

“I am!”

Without a response, she just smiled wide and turned to her door, unlocking it and stepping inside. A few seconds later, his phone buzzed.

_Good night, Seijuro. Tell Makoto thank you for me ;)_

Seijuro felt like he floated all the way home. He opened his front door and hunted Makoto down, pulling the man into a tight hug. “You’re the best, cuteness” he whispered. He really, really meant it.

x

Makoto felt disconnected from a lot of things. He was happy that everyone around him seemed to be getting happier, but he himself felt stuck in a rut. He should be sadder, he thought, after breaking up with Raphael, but he just felt... lost. No one really mentioned anything to him, giving him time and space, but it seemed word was getting around that Makoto was single again. Makoto, as oblivious as always, was last to notice, but it hadn’t escaped Sousuke’s eye.

Makoto stood by the bar, and Sousuke was having a hard time concentrating on his own work. He ground his teeth as he watched Makoto lean over the bar and subconsciously shake his ass. He’d just finished his dance bit for the night and he was dressed in a pair of mesh black panties that left his ass uncovered, straps coming down around the underside of his fat ass, and a bow at the top. His mesh baby doll top hung loose off his waist, the back splitting open to reveal the soft knobs of his spine and the muscles he was starting to regain. Every time he shifted, Sousuke had to remind himself he was at work. Raphael’s last words to him kept ringing in his head, the look on his face as he passed Sousuke by that night, hand running over his arm.

_“I’ve let him go, but don’t think this is me giving up on that angel. If you ever hurt him, I’ll be right behind you to swoop in and scoop Makoto up again.”_

Sousuke shivered as he watched Makoto sway his ass, too many customers trying to steal his attention, but something was happening. Makoto turned to his right as a man leaned forward and cleared his throat. Brown eyes met his green and then slowly slid over Makoto’s body.

“Your dance was highly erotic. You’re brave to walk around here after dancing like that.” The words felt predatory, but the man’s smile was teasing. Makoto turned back to glance at Rei, but he was busy with a customer. Green eyes slid once again to the customer beside him when the man said, “Sit down and let me buy you a drink, sweetheart.”

Makoto looked the man over, looked around. His eyes slipped over Sousuke’s, surprise through his lower region at the intense, aqua eyes on him. He turned back to the man and carefully slid down into the stool next to his, smiling shyly. A hand came up and rubbed over Makoto’s cheek, fingering his loose hair, smiling.

“You’re very beautiful,” the man said easily as he leaned his head down on his raised hand, elbow on the bar top, head tilted and smiling as he looked at Makoto with hungry eyes. Makoto shivered as warm fingers slid over his bare shoulder. A glance to his right told him Sousuke was watching it all. It was... thrilling. Makoto sighed forlornly and looked back at the man before him.

“Ah...” he whispered, “thank you...”

The smile spread, and the man’s hand slid down Makoto’s chest, slipping under his baby doll top and around his slim waist. Makoto arched his back slightly, letting out a sharp, little sigh of surprise at the feel of skin on his own. The man leaned closer and inhaled Makoto. “God, you’re so damn erotic...”

Makoto’s eyes flicked once again to Sousuke, jerking when he saw the man storming his way, looking like a bad, bad storm cloud. He thrilled as lips pressed against his neck and all he could do was watch Sousuke go wild as he moved as fast as he could. A large hand slammed against the bar top between the two of them and Sousuke pushed the man away with only his body, towering over them.

“Excuse me,” he barked. “This is not that kind of club. I suggest you take your hands off our men.”

Brown eyes flicked up to Sousuke as the man pulled away, hands raised, laughing easily. “Sure, sure,” he teased. “It’s hard when your dancers expel so many desperate pheromones. Maybe if you took better care of them...”

This time Rei’s hand slammed down next to Sousuke’s, a twitch in his eye. “Excuse me, dear customer, if you don’t plan to buy anything, please leave.”

The man stood and laughed like this was all so amusing, the fact that both the waiters and the bartender would bare their teeth for a precious little dancer, and the little dancer seemed like he didn’t understand why at all.

“Have fun,” he said with a wave over his shoulder, laughing and grinning.

Makoto’s eyes flicked to Sousuke, but the man didn’t even glance at him as he pulled back and slid his order pad to Rei.

“Ah...” whispered Makoto, but Sousuke was ignoring him. What Makoto didn’t see was his clenched first and the way his teeth were locked together to keep him from reaching down and purging Makoto’s skin of that man’s kiss. He wanted to say something, anything, but he was so furious, boiling with jealousy. He kept silent, stoic, afraid to completely break down.

Makoto gave an awkward nod and stood, trudging to the break room alone. His lips twisted bitterly; he felt... empty.

x

It kept getting worse and worse. Every night, Makoto woke up from another dream featuring Sousuke. Tonight, the scene from the club replayed in Makoto’s memory, but instead of Sousuke’s silence, he had turned to Makoto, pretty eyes flashing with desire. A warm hand had combed into his hair at the base of his neck and he’d been pulled into a deep kiss. Shivers ran down Makoto’s spine as Sousuke tongue slid over his. Sousuke had held him securely to his chest. He’d woken with an erection and a heart-aching sadness. He wandered out to the living room, just wanting another body to hug him, but Seijuro wasn’t home yet, probably spending another late night at the center. He sank into the couch with a blanket wrapped around him, eyes wide open. The apartment building settled around him, and the quiet lulled him into a thoughtless silence.

It wasn’t noticeable at first, probably just a branch against the window, but slowly the scratching and tapping became more persistent. Makoto’s head jerked up and he held his breath as he listened. It was just the wind, he told himself, just night noises... The noises faded away and Makoto nodded off.

When Seijuro came home an hour later, he carried Makoto back to bed in confusion, wondering why the other had been out in the living room to begin with.

Makoto awoke again a few hours later, more unsettled than ever, lonely, confused. He snuggled into Seijuro beside him and wondered why the man’s warmth wasn’t healing him like it had before.

These feelings were tearing him apart. He needed... a distraction. 

x

“You need to step out of your circle and just have fun,” Rin declared, fist to his open palm. He looked smug, Haru beside him looking slightly concerned and over it.

Makoto sat with a lowered head and dejected face, and Haru sighed at the sight of him. “Maybe Rin’s not too far off. I don’t think it would hurt to go out and have some fun.” He offered a tilted smile when Makoto lifted his head.

“Yeah! We’ll go out! You can forget about that dumb lug.”

Makoto frowned, eyes drifting off to the side. Was this the distraction he’d been looking for? If he could get out there, do something crazy for once in his life, because he could, because he was single, maybe it would change something. Maybe he’d meet someone and do something very uncharacteristic like have sex with a stranger... Makoto wanted to laugh; he would have never done that two months ago. But ordinary life was eating him whole. He felt taxed and tired all the time, his emotions waging war inside his weary body. He wanted a break. He needed it. His sanity was slipping. Sousuke was all he could think about anymore. He’d analyzed what had happened between them in high school and now a million times. He always came to the same conclusion; he was just going in circles, and he was getting dizzy. Nothing good could come of his feelings for Sousuke. He had to forget them and purge himself of the memories linked to the man.

“Okay,” he said with a slow smile, turning back to Rin and Haru. “I think I need a break from my life.”

Rin laughed, but Haru’s face settled back into concern, his blue eyes watching Makoto carefully. Back in high school, he’d known Makoto better than anyone else, and yet he hadn’t known that Makoto had been suffering so badly in his relationship with Sousuke. He’d never said a word, maybe because saying it aloud might make it too real for a man who was endlessly hopeful. Haru had never really forgiven Sousuke for what he did, and he wondered if he ever could. And yet, Sousuke was a big part of Makoto’s life, of who he was today. He didn’t think hating the man was the answer. He just wished Makoto’s heart would let go of the past. He was sure the feelings Makoto had weren’t healthy. And yet he didn’t know how to help the man get rid of them.

Hearts could be so fickle and yet so loyal. They could disobey their owner or lead them to the right place. Haru glanced at Rin; his heart hadn’t led him astray, but why was Makoto seemingly so unfortunate... A distraction. Maybe that was all it would take, but Haru was very, very doubtful.

“Find your sluttiest outfit and shave everything! We’re gonna find you a man!” Rin shouted to the ceiling, arms raised in victory. Haru rolled his eyes, but Makoto couldn’t help but laugh softly. If he could just forget about Sousuke, even for one night... If he could do something crazy and discover something wild about himself, maybe he could be stronger. Makoto clenched his fists in his lap, eyes drifting off again, mind wandering.

What was Sousuke doing right now...?

x

Rin stood impatiently in the living room of Gou’s apartment, three guys waiting on her to finish getting ready. Rin was annoyed because _someone_ (Makoto) had let it slip that they were going clubbing and apparently Gou had never been. With permission from Seijuro, she’d declared she was coming with them, and the idea wasn’t sitting well with her big brother, but in the face of Gou’s determination, Rin was always silenced.

Rin was dressed in leather pants and a low hanging tank top that showed off most of his upper torso, a jacket pulled over to keep the December cold away, and Haru was wearing a simple pair of ripped jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, his messy hair the only thing different about him, but somehow they both looked perfect for a night out clubbing. Makoto had pulled on a pair of faux leather shorts that came up to his waist and covered not much of his legs, a pair of thigh high, black boots, and a black mesh top that was really just sleeves and a collar, a white fur coat over it to make sure his nipples didn’t freeze off. Rin had grinned proudly at him when they’d met up, and Haru had just smiled.

“Well, that’ll work,” Rin had said with thumbs up.

When Gou finally came out, she had on a skin tight velvet dress, glitter on her collar bones and cheekbones, her shoulders beautiful and bare.

“Put on a jacket,” Rin grumbled as she spun around to show off, and when she laughed, he complained, “You have a boyfriend!”

“And we’re going to a gay bar,” she responded back smartly.

“You’re gonna drive all the ladies wild!” Rin quipped back, and Haru stood and soothed his boyfriend.

“You look wonderful, Gou. If you need help fighting anyone off tonight, I’m sure you won’t need to look far.”

“Thank you, Haru,” she responded sweetly, turning to her brother to stick her tongue out. Makoto realized Rin had two weaknesses: Gou and Haru both. He smiled, still sitting until Gou walked over and held out her hand for him.

When he stood, she nodded approvingly, and he gave her his own once-over and smiled.

“Gorgeous,” they chimed together, grinning. Rin groaned and Haru smiled. Makoto took a deep breath; this was it. This was what he needed. Tonight was the night. They set off, Rin plastered to Haru’s side and Gou’s arm around Makoto’s hips. The last thing on Makoto’s mind right now was Sousuke, and he was glad for it as he stared fondly at the top of Gou’s head. Her hair swayed loose in the breeze, glittering like rubies under the streetlight, her boobs bouncing a little as she sashayed alongside him.

The club was loud, the building painted obnoxiously on the outside, neon lights everywhere, and the line was already long to get in. They shuffled in, ID’s and entrance fee ready, and twenty minutes later they were inside. Makoto slipped his fur coat down his shoulders, much hotter inside, and they looked for a place to set their things down. Haru found a table and pulled out a stool for himself, waving the other three off with a promise to watch them and their stuff as they had fun.

Gou pulled Makoto first to the bar, where they each took a shot, Rin ambling after them to keep them safe. Eyes were already scoping out the two of them, and Makoto huddled his body around Gou’s to protect Sei’s most treasured person. Shots downed and new drinks in hand, the three moved to the dance floor, bodies slowly pressing around them as the floor grew more and more crowded.

“I’m gonna go check on Haru,” Rin said with flushed cheeks. Someone had been bumping against him for a while now, and he looked ready to explode. He took empty cups and warnedGou and Makoto to be safe. 

It wasn’t even a minute later, when Makoto shivered as two hands slid over his bare skin, Gou grinning wide as she locked eyes with whoever was behind him. Ruby eyes flicked to Makoto, and she made a face like, “He’s pretty good looking.” A hot body pressed against Makoto’s back, something hard against his ass, and he shivered again. His first instinct was to pull away, but this was what he was here for. He sank against the body behind him, rolling his hips encouragingly. A low, sexy voice let out a short curse, arms pulling Makoto tighter against him. The man behind him was definitely hard, Makoto knew now. He reached back blindly, hands sliding down into a loose shirt, muscles shifting under warm skin, and Makoto flushed with heat and desire. The music pounded in their ears and their hips began to move to the beat. Gou pressed her hands to Makoto’s chest and grinned, but Makoto could see other girls eyeing Gou up like candy too.

The hands around his waist slowly moved down over the planes of his stomach, pressing down his thighs, barely touching his clothed cock. He gave a short mewl, and the man behind him groaned again. Makoto gripped his hand into long hair, and he rolled his hips again, cock pressing between his ass cheeks now. He felt big, and hot. Gou leaned up and yelled over the music that she was going to go find her brother. Makoto thought twice about letting her go, but in his heels, it was easy to watch her until she safely made it to their table, and that freed the man up behind him to spin him around to face him.

 _Oh_ , he was handsome. His features were striking, and he had sharp, dark eyes. His skin was a little tanned, and his hair hung down in straight sheets, almost as long as Gou’s. He grinned when he saw Makoto’s eyes travel down over his buff arms. He rolled his hips again, bending down to huff, “God, you’re fucking gorgeous, baby doll.”

Makoto’s eyes jerked back up to nearly black irises, stirred up by this dark beauty before him. He bit at his lip, shy but wanting more contact between them. He pressed his hands to the man’s shoulders, slowly slipping them around to his back, drawing the two closer. This guy smelled ridiculously good. Hands squeezed at his ass cheeks through his shorts, and he squealed, head tossing back as a hard cock pressed against his own. He didn’t even know the man’s name, nor anything about him, but Makoto knew he was sexy, and he was hard for Makoto. He was tall, too, taller than Makoto in heels, and Makoto was very turned on.

When the man bent down, Makoto didn’t pull away, and as lips crashed against his own, he thought this was exactly what he’d needed. A tongue slid along his lips like permission to enter, and Makoto opened his mouth with a hot gasp, tongues slipping together, curling, suckling on each other. They probably both tasted like alcohol, but Makoto was getting drunk off this feeling. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had kissed him like this, like he wanted to devour Makoto. His eyes slipped shut and he let himself get lost in it.

The man pulled away when the song changed, breathing heavy. “Let me get you a drink,” he said, and Makoto nodded. A big hand, rough from physical labor, slipped into his own, and he was pulled through the crowd to the bar. The man pulled Makoto in front of him again, pressing him into the bar top as he crowded behind him. Makoto felt safe in the cage of strong arms. His hands slipped up and he gripped at bulging biceps, shivering against the hot body behind him.

“Do you like it?” the man laughed into his ear, and Makoto nodded and swallowed roughly. When the bartender came, he yelled his order, the man behind him asking for a lager. Makoto turned his nose into the man’s arm, shutting his eyes as he inhaled something like pine cones and beer.

“My name’s Tora, by the way.” Makoto nodded, turning up to offer his own name, but his eyes caught on someone a little ways across the bar, eyeing him up like he wanted in on what Tora had going on. He had short dark brown hair and a soft face, but as he moved confidently towards Makoto and his new partner, he knew that the face was deceiving. He was shorter than Tora, but he was almost as built, sporting a shirt that clung to his body and jeans that did the same. He roughed a hand through his messy hair and grinned as he approached Makoto.

“Hey,” a velvety smooth voice said, and two pairs of eyes locked on the newcomer. Tora’s arm slid possessively around Makoto’s waist, but this just opened up a space for the other man to press a hand to Makoto’s neck, grinning. “I get it if you’re taken, but I’d love to dance with you.”

Makoto slowly looked up at Tora, whose face was twisted possessively, eyes on the new guy, but he shrugged and said simply, “We can all dance together.”

He set his beer down hard on the bar top and the new guy grabbed Makoto’s hand, Makoto’s other gripping into Tora’s sleeve as the three pushed their way into the crowd. Suddenly, Makoto was sandwiched in between two guys who seemed to be purely muscle, and they were both grinding against him, one at the front, Tora against his ass. He shivered at the hands on his skin, hot skin pressed to his own. Tora turned his head to kiss him again like before, the other guy pawing at the brunet until he was released and he took Tora’s place. Lips crushed against his own over and over. While Tora’s kiss was sloppy but experienced, this other guy seemed to know exactly how to cleanly pull Makoto to pieces. His lips moved down Makoto’s neck and that’s when Tora turned his head again to reclaim his pink lips.

Makoto was in paradise. If they dragged him off now, he wouldn’t be able to say no. He wanted to be ruined, and though he’d never tried a threesome, he wouldn’t dare say no if he was offered one now. He panted Tora’s name between kisses, and the other guy murmured into his ear, “Call my name too. Say Yuri...”

Makoto moaned and turned back to Yuri, trembling lips warbling out his name. “Fuck, that’s hot,” groaned the other man, and Tora began to nibble at Makoto’s ear.

“Are we gonna take this further, or can you not decide?” the taller man growled into Makoto’s ear, eyes locked on Yuri, who pulled back now. Brown eyes sized up the tall man.

“Who says he has to decide?” Yuri grinned, and like two magnets pulled together, suddenly Tora and Yuri were making out next to Makoto’s ear.

Someone grabbed his hand and Makoto looked up to find Rin beside him, pulling him away from the two guys. He glanced back, Tora and Yuri watching him go, and he gave a regretful wave goodbye, head snapping back to Rin as he was dragged to the bar.

“I know I said you should do something crazy, but not a threesome with two guys like that! You’ll get smuggled!”

Makoto laughed, glancing back, but the two familiar faces in the crowd were gone. He wondered if Rin would actually let him go off with anyone, but for now, this was enough. Makoto was surprised to find Gou standing at the bar, a girl chatting her up, but her eyes were locked on Makoto like she’d been watching him the whole time. Haru stood pressed against her side, watching the girl next to her for evil intentions. Rin had no qualms about shooing the girl off and snuggling against his boyfriend. Gou pulled Makoto to fill the new empty spot beside her, pressing into him.

“You’re red! Did you have fun?”

“I could have had more if Rin wasn’t such a party pooper,” he joked lightly. Rin pulled a face and Gou laughed with Makoto.

“Nii-san, you need to let Makoto have his fun!”

“He was about to get pummeled and kidnapped by two body builders!”

Gou keened at Makoto with big, sparkly eyes, paying her brother’s complaints no mind. “Get it, Makoto,” she grinned cheekily. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, whispering, “There’s a guy that’s been ogling you since you got here, but he looks too shy to come over. Go say hi.”

She turned his head to look, and Makoto found him almost immediately. He was tiny, a thin guy and adorably short. He blushed when Makoto spotted him, eyes darting away and hands clenching nervously around his cocktail.

Gou pressed a drink into Makoto’s hand and smacked his ass. “Go get ‘em.”

Green eyes glanced down at Gou. The guy wasn’t his usual type at all; he definitely wasn’t a confident top, and Makoto had never even considered not being bottom himself. But Gou shrugged, smiling. “Didn’t you want something different? Plus, he’s so cute and sad! At least go flirt with him a little.”

Even Rin was shooing Makoto away now, seeming to approve at least of someone half Makoto’s size, and so Makoto made his way slowly towards where the guy stood against the bar.

“Hi,” he leaned down and whispered into a red ear. He smelled like apples, his curly hair soft against Makoto’s nose, and he was short indeed. His head whipped around and up; the top of his head came to Makoto’s rib cage. And still despite all that, Makoto couldn’t help but admit that the guy was adorably cute, his cheeks flaring up bright red, eyes glittering hopefully. He looked like a small rabbit caught in the headlights of a car, and Makoto wondered if this is what it felt like to be the alpha male. He leaned down again, smiling now as he said, “My friend said you’d been watching me for a while.” The confirmation came through wide eyes, and Makoto smiled. “I’m Makoto.”

“Ah,” the guy said, his voice soft and as cute as he was, “I’m Maki.”

Makoto found himself a little enamored with the guy before him. He’d never known the feeling of being the one fawned over like this. Usually it was him doing the fawning, but tonight, in this guy’s eyes, he was the big, strong, hot guy. It felt empowering, and Makoto was on a power trip. “Wanna dance?” he asked.

Maki let out a high, “Oh my god,” turning again to Makoto like he’d never been asked before. He looked unsure of how to answer, too nervous to move at all, so Makoto, in a moment of brazenness, cupped Maki’s soft cheek and kissed him.

He was so soft, and he tasted like the lychee drink he’d been sipping at. Like butter, he melted in Makoto’s hand, lips parting and allowing Makoto to do whatever he wanted. Makoto felt alive with this new experience.

When he pulled back, he husked, “Come dance with me, please,” a little out of breath from someone so shy and tiny, but Maki was doing things to Makoto that he’d never experienced before. There was a special thrill that came with being the big, tall guy for once. Maki’s tiny hands clung to Makoto’s big palm as the brunet led him out to the dance floor. He turned and slid his arms around a slim waist, pulling Maki, who felt lighter than air, to his chest. Maki was wearing a pair of tiny shorts and a sweater crop top, and his skin felt wonderful against Makoto’s where it touched. Makoto led him, turned him around; Maki easily followed Makoto’s every push and pull. He was like putty in Makoto’s hands. The alcohol was making Makoto feel giddy, and Maki was making him feel high.

He was really pretty, actually. He had light brown hair like caramel that curled against his face, and every once in a while he would sweep it all to one side, showing off his undercut. His skin was milky white and soft, and he fit against Makoto like they were made for each other. The feeling of holding someone was almost more exhilarating in this moment than being held.

Makoto pulled Maki’s hips against his own, grinding hard against the other. Maki clung around his neck, leaning back, looking up at Makoto with bright, hazel eyes.

“You’re so pretty,” huffed Makoto, in awe of this tiny creature. Maki flushed red, but he gave a wobbly smile that yanked at Makoto’s heart. Makoto was unbelievably turned on, and it showed. Their hard lengths pressed together as they flirted, and Makoto wanted to throw everything he’d thought he liked out the window; he _wanted_ Maki. He wanted those pretty little lips on his, wanted to see them stretched around his cock. He fingered at them, and Maki’s lids fluttered closed as he turned his head and pressed a kiss to Makoto’s thumb. He blushed, eyes opening like he wanted to make sure he hadn’t overstepped his bounds, and Makoto felt overwhelmed. Leaning down, he gruffed out, “I’ve never done this before with someone like you, but you’re way too damn adorable right now.” Maki turned to look at him and Makoto claimed his lips, kissed the other until he was mewling. Makoto moaned loudly. “I want you so badly!”

Maki trembled in his arms, and Makoto was ready to give his life to this precious little bean.

“Is it okay?” he begged desperately. Maki clung to him, shaking. “Is it okay that I want to do bad things to you?”

“Yes~” squeaked out a shaky voice, and Makoto was overcome with desire. He scooped up Maki’s hands and led the other towards the back of the club, to the bathrooms. There was a long hallway, lit with black lights and neon paint on the wall. Makoto pressed Maki against a hidden corner and claimed his lips. Tiny hands clung to him, at his shirt, his muscles, his hair, anything to not slip away. Makoto slipped his tongue into that sweet mouth and licked at his soft tongue, eating up the little warbles and mewls the other was making. His hands grabbed at bare hips, massaging into a soft belly. Something cool slipped over his thumb and he pulled back. In the middle of a flat, creamy belly, hung a tiny little belly button ring, and Makoto went weak in the knees, leaning an arm against the wall over Maki. He shut his eyes and tried to remember how to just breathe. Mali’s hands slid over his skin and his breathing changed slightly, like he’d finally found the confidence he’d been looking for.

Makoto’s eyes jerked open when he felt slim fingers tug at the zipper on his shorts. Maki’s ears were red, as well as the back of his neck as he bent down, but his hands moved with determination. Makoto was so fascinated and excited that he couldn’t move. Maki slid down against the wall a little and gasped when he pulled Makoto’s shorts open. His back arched and he cried out like he’d just orgasmed, hands trembling as they gripped at Makoto’s shorts. Hazel eyes flicked open and Maki stared up at Makoto in a haze. The look on his face was so erotic that Makoto couldn’t help but scoop the other up into another deep kiss. Maki pressed his hands to Makoto’s cheeks.

“You’re... s-so... hot...” he trembled out in his small voice, and Makoto thought he wanted someone like this in his life all the time. Maki sank down to his knees this time, and with a bright red face but a needy expression, he palmed at Makoto’s erection, at his lace thong. Makoto had nearly forgotten he was wearing it, but was that what had made Maki moan so sweetly? “You’re so hot-!” Maki whined over and over, his small hands rubbing at Makoto like this alone was enough for him, but Makoto needed more, wanted so much more. He wanted to see the boy’s face when he pulled his cock out, when he saw that it was big and hard and leaky. He wanted that sweet little tongue licking up his pre-cum.

His thumb slipped into the hem of his underwear and he pulled it down, Maki gasping in delight as Makoto’s erection smacked against his cheek. Hands instantly cradled around the hot thing, and Maki mewled against tight skin. This was it; Makoto sank his hand into Maki’s soft hair like a plea. The final shot to the heart was hazel eyes slipping upward as he sank his lips around the head of Makoto’s dick. Makoto scratched at the wall he leaned against, needing to tear something apart as Maki slowly licked him to pieces. It wouldn’t take long, not with this sight and this sensation.

“I’m gonna cum,” Makoto whined into the crux of his arm. His legs were barely holding him up anymore, but he held on, as sweet little lips suckled around his cock, too big to take him any deeper but damn if he wasn’t trying so hard. Hazel eyes flicked back up to Makoto and it was all the permission he needed to cum hard down the guy’s throat. Maki choked on it, pulled away and got some on his face, but he arched his back and rubbed against the wall behind him, hands flying to his own erection as he came in his shorts. Makoto sank down to his knees in front of the other man. He leaned his forehead against his arm, weak, and Maki reached up to hold his face, to kiss him sweetly. Makoto shivered, tears spilling out as it hit him like a freight train. He was too drunk for this; as much as he’d enjoyed it, why didn’t it feel that good? He felt lonely, so lonely. He cupped the back of Maki’s head and kissed him like the world was ending, but the rush of it was fading. He needed more alcohol. This wasn’t what he was chasing after... Maki was beautiful and wonderful and Makoto wished he could take the little guy home, but no amount of alcohol could dull the desire to be held in strong arms, to be kissed by inexperienced lips, to ruffle his hand into black hair...

“That was so good,” Makoto huffed against Maki’s neck. Despite his wave of emotions, he was still shaking from the encounter. “If only you were my type, I’d take you home and never let you leave me.”

Maki laughed sweetly. “I knew I didn’t stand a chance when I saw you dancing with those big guys, but I’m just happy I got this far.”

“Sorry... Maki... you’re wonderful, but you’re not...”

“It’s okay.” Makoto pulled back to find Maki smiling beautifully. “I’ll find someone else, but I needed tonight to know I could do it. Actually, there’s a guy I like...”

Makoto smiled. In the end, it had turned out okay. He’d given Maki what the other needed, even if he himself felt emptier than ever. They parted on good terms, and Makoto trudged back to the bar. Gou took one look at him and ordered another round of shots.

“Was it good?” she asked after he’d downed one shot glass, and she pushed another towards him.

“Yeah,” Makoto whispered mournfully. She reached out to pat his head. Three shots later, Makoto told her, “I wanna go get my belly button pierced.”

She looked at him with wide eyes, because she’d never imagined Makoto would say that. “Okay,” she said slowly, watching him, but he was determined. He didn’t even know why himself; he was desperate to do something, anything. Was that it? Gou pulled out her phone and searched for piercing places open late around the area and Makoto knocked back one last drink. He wanted his brain to shut off for a few hours. He turned to Gou and she took his arm, leading him around the throng of people to where Haru and Rin sat, making out at their table like they didn’t care who saw.

“We’re back,” Gou announced loudly, and Makoto let out a barking, drunken laugh. Two pairs of eyes shot up at him, sizing him up. “He’s drunk again now, but he wants to go get his belly button pierced.”

Haru frowned, ready to ask if that was a good idea, but Rin had jumped to his feet and was pumping his fists in the air, probably also a little tipsy. “Let’s do it, Makoto!”

“Rin...” Haru groaned, but he stood and Gou helped him tuck the other two into their coats. Rin slid an arm through Makoto’s and they wandered off towards the exit together, Gou and Haru trying to both let them be and also keep them out of danger.

“Turn left,” Gou said outside, her phone pulled out and giving directions. Rin turned right and Makoto turned left and then they stopped and laughed about it. Haru grabbed Rin’s hand with a heavy sigh and dragged him off, Gou sliding up to Makoto, who leaned against her, arm around her shoulders. “Are you okay?” she whispered as she glanced up at him.

“Yeah,” he giggled, but he was scared the alcohol would wear off before he’d done the deed. He didn’t want to chicken out; he needed to do this. Why, his brain couldn’t comprehend, but he really needed to do it. “Let’s hurry.”

The place was only a few blocks away, and it was surprisingly clean and well lit for the area of town it was in. A man with too many piercings and tattoos took the group back after Makoto had spent thirty minutes trying to pick out a piercing. He pushed his coat aside and shut his eyes, slowly bracing himself, but five minutes in, the man announced he was done. Makoto slowly looked around, uncertain, and then down. He had barely felt anything, but sure enough, there it sat, glimmering cool and silver against his tummy. Gou helped him off the table and to the full length mirror, while Haru took Makoto’s card to pay the man.

“Ohh...” whispered Makoto in the most sobering moment. His eyes stared at the bright aqua jewel the dangled from his belly button now. Yeah, he got it now, why he thought he’d needed to do this. He turned to Gou and gave her a wobbly smile, and she whispered, “Oh no...”

“I don’t feel... very good...” Makoto whispered just as his knees buckled. Gou somehow caught him, making his blow a little softer. She scrambled for a trash can, but the cold of the floor against Makoto’s face was enough for now.

“Okay, just... My place is only a few minutes away, can you make it?”

“I don’t know if I can walk...” he whispered mournfully, the cold floor currently his best friend as his stomach turned and flipped.

“I’m gonna get Haru,” she yelped as she scrambled up, running off. She came back a few minutes later with the dark-haired male in tow, who groaned at the sight before him but pulled Makoto up anyways, kneeling down in front of him.

“Makoto, hold on to me, I’m gonna carry you. Don’t you dare puke on me.”

“Okay,” Makoto whispered miserably.

“I can call a cab-“ Gou said frantically, but Haru just stood up with a huff, Makoto heavy on his back; it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to with Rin by now.

“Let’s just go,” he grunted, Makoto clinging to his back, a hand clasped over his mouth and eyes shut tight. The piercing hurt like hell as it rubbed against Haru’s jacket, but Makoto’s head was too messy to worry about that.

“Are you crying?” Haru asked softly halfway back to Gou’s place. Makoto’s tears were sliding silently down and dripping onto Haru’s neck. He didn’t say a word; he couldn’t. Reality was crashing in on him. He’d realized it the moment he’d looked at his belly button piercing. He knew exactly what he’d been thinking at the club; when he’d looked at Maki’s piercing, there had been a really strong feeling that had gripped him, and all he wanted was for Sousuke... to feel it too, for him. Yeah... that was all it was.

That was really all it would ever boil down to. He loved Sousuke with every cell in his body, and nothing would ever change that.

Haru grunted as he set Makoto down in Gou’s front entry, immediately hauling Rin back home before the redhead could get sick too. Makoto sat on the ground in the genkan and cried silently. Gou slipped her shoes off and quietly came to sit next to him, not saying a word, just there. His head slid down to her shoulder as he clutched his hands together, wringing them, anxieties rising up.

The moment he opened his mouth, an ugly sob escaped, and that was the last piece of control Makoto had over himself; he broke down and began sobbing, body shaking. Gou could only wrap an arm around him and hold him tight as his head sank to her lap and he cried into her dress.

“I messed up, Gou. Oh god... I screwed it all up. Why did it take me so long to realize? ...I tried... to be rational about it, but these feelings I have for Sousuke... were never rational to begin with.” Makoto clutched at his chest as he felt like his heart might tear out of his rib cage. “I thought I was protecting myself, but all I’ve been doing is hurting myself as I fought my own feelings.”

Gou rubbed his back and he gripped at her knees, feeling like he was losing control of everything in a split second.

“Gou, I’ve been so stupid. I love him so much, Gou. I can’t... I can’t forget about him at all!” Every word caught on a hiccup. “And now I’ve gone and messed it all up!”

“What...? Why?” Gou whispered, worry making her voice crack.

“I shouldn’t have... gone tonight. I was trying to run away, run from my feelings, but I’m just hurting him, aren’t I? I’m hurting myself too... I mi-“ He hiccuped hard, shoulders shaking, and Gou had to pull him up and into a hug to try to get him to breathe. “I miss him so much-!” Makoto choked out, face going red.

He was reaching the point of being too emotional, but he couldn’t stop the feelings rushing through him. Everything he’d tried to deny for the past few months was all crashing down on him now, and he felt like he couldn’t handle it. He clung to Gou, his only lifeline as he tried to breathe right. She wore a circle into his jacket as she smoothed her hand over his back again and again. For a moment her hand slipped down as she shifted, Makoto feeling unsettled in his own skin, but he sighed when soon enough her hand was back, softly massaging at his neck. Slowly, his breathing was regulating. “I miss him so much...” he murmured. Memories flooded back, of Sousuke, of being so happy he could die.

“We weren’t good together, not really, not back then, but god, I would have done anything for him. Even now, I still... I want us to be good this time around, but I think... I think I’ve messed it up too badly this time, Gou...”

He shifted off her shoulder, rubbing harshly at his face with the sleeves of his fur jacket. He stared down at the throbbing new piercing, at the color that reminded him of Sousuke’s gorgeous eyes. “Even when I don’t mean to think of him...”

He looked up with red eyes and a messy face, and he tried to give Gou a smile, shaky at best. “I love him so much, Gou. I’ve loved him since the very moment I met him. He’s always been the only one for me. It killed me when he left me behind, but even so... Even so, I can forgive him for that because I know he’s the only one I’ll ever think about this much. I love him too much to let my fears overshadow how much he’s changed.”

“He’s really changed a lot...” murmured Gou in agreement. “He’s so different, Makoto.”

“I know. I know it...” Makoto whispered. He knew better than anyone how much Sousuke had changed. “It makes me love him all the more,” he laughed wryly. “He tears me apart, but he makes me feel more whole than I’ve ever been.”

“You’ve always had your eyes on him. You’ve always been thinking of him... He really doesn’t deserve it, that little butt hole.”

Makoto’s face softened and he shook his head. “No, you’re wrong. The one who doesn’t deserve anything is me. I don’t deserve how much he’s changed. I don’t deserve how hard he’s tried. Now he’s far too good for someone like me, with scars and broken pieces and too much mess in my head to be any good.” Makoto turned his head up to the ceiling, tears coming again. “But I love him so much more than anything. I wish... I wish I could have let myself believe it before. I messed up. I couldn’t see how good... how wonderful he wanted to be for me.”

Makoto reached down and slowly fingered at his new jewelry. What had he been working so hard for, besides himself? Wasn’t it all for Sousuke; it felt like he’d spent this whole time crying, begging for Sousuke to just notice him, please. Even this was a pitiful attempt to cover his flaws and make himself appear brighter than he was. “I did so many silly things, just because I wanted him to notice me. Even tonight... even this... I just wanted him to look at me, not with a sad look on his face, but with warmth and love, like I was the best thing in his life. I wanted to pretend I could cover all my flaws and make myself shiny and new, all so that... so that Sousuke would... stay with me. For good this time. I want him... for good.”

Makoto looked back down at Gou, tears blurring his vision. “I just want him to be all mine...” He pressed his lips together as he started crying again, tears raining down. “I think if he ever leaves me again, I’ll die... That’s how much... that’s how much I need him.”

Gou’s hand slipped over the floor, Makoto’s eyes catching her movement. There was a timer counting up on her phone, a blurry name above it. She lifted her phone for him to see, and his eyes focused in on the name at the top of the screen.

“When-?” Makoto choked out.

“Nearly since the beginning.” Gou tilted her head, her hand with the phone in it slipping down as she ended the call. “I wasn’t the one who needed to hear all of that,” she said with a soft smile.

Makoto stumbled sloppily to his feet, pulling himself up in the messiest way possible. He hugged his coat around himself and moved to the front door. He had a feeling, like a sixth sense that was only attuned to one person. He pulled the door open, and there he stood, hand raised like he’d just been about to knock. He was breathing hard, breath coming in sharp puffs of white clouds. He only had on a sweater, and his hands trembled from the cold, nose bright red. The moment he saw Makoto, he sank down to his knees.

“Whatever you want from me, I swear I’ll give you everything- my whole life is yours, just-“

Makoto let out a sob as he pulled at Sousuke’s arm, trying to get him up, trying to get him inside. Sousuke stumbled forward on his knees, tripping Makoto up and he fell back on his ass. Sousuke instantly crawled to him and scooped him up off the floor.

“Anything, Makoto, I swear it-“

“You idiot!” Makoto sobbed as he wrapped his arms around Sousuke’s neck. “You ran here like this? You’re gonna get sick!”

“I don’t care, I had to come get you-“

“You’re such an idiot!” Makoto pulled Sousuke closer, pressing his face to Sousuke’s cold neck.

“My whole life is yours, Makoto, just tell me what I should do to make you mine again-“ 

“Idiot...” Makoto whispered. “All I need is you...”

Sousuke let out a sound that sounded like the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders. He pulled Makoto against himself.

“All I ever needed was just you-“ Makoto’s voice shook as tears came again. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. I was such an idiot-“

“No, I was the idiot for ever leaving you to begin with.” Sousuke rubbed his hands over Makoto’s back. He felt closer than he ever had; he was right here, in Makoto’s grasp. Had he always been so warm? Had he always smelled so wonderful?

“Sousuke-“ Makoto hiccuped, but Sousuke pulled back, whispering in his ear. “Let me take you home first.”

“Home?” Makoto whispered as he clung tighter to Sousuke. Home was far away and he needed Sousuke with him... against him.

Sousuke’s breath stuttered, his body stiff and unsure. He glanced up at Gou, and then back to Makoto.

“Just go already,” Gou laughed as she shooed them away. Sousuke scrambled to his feet and picked Makoto up, big arms wrapping around him to keep him warm. He turned on his heel and ran out the door, slowing once his feet hit the pavement outside, not sure where to go.

Makoto was breathing heavy against his neck, and Sousuke had to remind himself to do the right thing, _just do the right thing_. When all he wanted was to take Makoto to his place, he knew this wasn’t the time for that at all. Just a little bit longer, just a little more patience...

Sousuke walked for a few blocks with Makoto in his arms, clutched to his chest. The brunet had never felt so safe in anyone’s arms before, couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so... He wasn’t worried for a single moment as Sousuke clutched him tightly, but it was more than that. Heat transferred between them until Sousuke could barely stand it. He set Makoto’s feet down to the ground, but the other clung to him, breathing against his neck. Oh, how long had it been since he’d felt this intense desire building up inside? Sousuke slowly pulled away, Makoto’s elbows gripped in his hands, his eyes taking in all of Makoto.

His voice was quiet as he spoke into the silence of the night and the street around them, the only words he’d been thinking the whole time. “I promise to give you the rest of my life and anything else your heart desires. Just... please don’t cry anymore, my love. Tears don’t suit your beautiful face.”

Makoto pulled back and Sousuke reached up to wipe his face with his sleeves. Makoto’s heart skipped a beat; all he could see was Sousuke, his precious Sousuke. His heart yearned for this man. With those words, Makoto’s stomach filled with butterflies. He leaned forward and sank his hand into Sousuke’s hair, pulled himself up into a long-awaited meeting of their lips. Ah... this was the thing he’d been needing so badly. Just this. Just Sousuke against him, in his arms... with him.

He pulled back and breathed out a rough, “This... Just this.” Their breaths met in the cold air in clouds of white. This time Sousuke pulled him back against his lips, the kiss already broken for too long. Lips moved hungrily against each other, tasting, remembering, craving more. “Sousuke,” Makoto huffed, needy and desperate to be closer.

“I need to get you home,” husked Sousuke even as he kissed Makoto again. He was trying to be good, but his body betrayed him.

 _I don’t want to go home..._ Makoto thought.

Sousuke used all of his strength to pull away from Makoto and wrap his arm around his waist, trying to regain control.

“I need to get you home,” he said again. It was like, if he spent one more moment kissing Makoto, he’d break down. He tugged Makoto to his side as they shuffled along, faster now. Makoto pressed his face into Sousuke’s neck, nibbling. He didn’t want to go home.

“Sousuke...” he moaned as heat flared up inside him. The beast inside was waking up. One little kiss had woken it from its slumber, and it wouldn’t be quieted so easily. 

Makoto purred against Sousuke’s neck and reached his hand down to palm at Sousuke’s manhood through his jeans. The man’s steps faltered, as he cursed out, “Fuck, Makoto, don’t-“ His fingers gripped hard around Makoto’s wrist and he pulled his hand away with a rough breath.

“Sousuke...” Makoto breathed again, pressing closer to Sousuke. He needed him so badly; this wasn’t sane anymore.

“I know, but please-“ Sousuke was breathing hard, and it wasn’t from the exercise anymore. He’d been achingly hard since the kiss and it was difficult to walk. His knees wanted to buckle; he wanted to cave in. Makoto wanted him to, but he couldn’t, not like this. He had to treasure Makoto, had to... treasure him.

 _He’s drunk_ , Sousuke harshly reminded himself. He glanced down only to find Makoto’s eyes on him, long lashes glittering over a heated gaze. Sousuke shivered, pulling Makoto’s wandering hand to his chest, where he held it. He couldn’t risk that hand stirring him up any more than this. He kissed Makoto’s crown tenderly, trying to reassure the man, but he seemed satiated for now.

Seijuro’s apartment building loomed tall ahead of them, and the reality began setting in that soon they would have to bid each other a good night. Makoto’s heart sank with every step up. At Seijuro’s front door, Sousuke pulled him around and hugged him tightly. Makoto clung to his sweater, head swimming with light feelings.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered against Sousuke’s shoulder, the one that had caused them so much trouble. He kissed it sweetly. “Can’t you stay?”

“I don’t think Seijuro would like it...”

Makoto gripped Sousuke tighter, but he wasn’t wrong. The brunet’s rebellious spirit rose as Sousuke lifted his chin and kissed him good and slow. For a moment Makoto forgot, but when their lips parted, reality crashed in again. “I’m gonna sneak you in,” Makoto hushed, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t think clearly; all he understood was this feeling that Sousuke couldn’t leave, not now.

“Makoto-“

But Makoto was already carefully unlocking the front door and shushing Sousuke. “Stay there,” he mouthed, pointing next at the window beside the door. He raised to his tippy toes and slowly stepped inside the apartment, Sousuke the only one aware of how loud he was actually being when he thought he was being so sneaky.

Sousuke was also the first one to see the flash of a pair of eyes in the dark of the apartment, only a moment before Makoto froze, his body slowly shifting back to his normal posture. A light switched on inside the apartment and it was almost way too cliche; Sousuke had to bite back his laugh. The look of pure disappointment on Makoto’s face was the only thing that kept him silent.

Makoto turned to Sousuke with a guilty look on his face that tore the man apart as Seijuro stood and stepped up behind the brunet. “Thank you very much for bringing Makoto home.” Makoto’s eyes were so sad that it broke Sousuke heart, his head down and lips trembling a little.

“Yeah...” murmured Sousuke, not really looking at Seijuro at all, too caught up in Makoto’s expression. “No problem.”

Makoto’s head raised hopefully towards Sousuke, as he said, “Makoto…”

“Sleep well. I’ll see you at work, okay?” It was more of a promise then anything else. Makoto’s eyes lit up a little.

“Yeah,” he whispered, a little breathless. “Okay.”

Sousuke slowly turned and walked down the stairs, and the front door shut, separating them with an almost deafening certainty. Sousuke clenched at his sweater and wondered if this was separation anxiety. He pulled out his phone and sat down on the first step of the stairs leading down.

 _I miss you already._   
_Please don’t cry, beautiful._

He could hear Makoto’s voice in his head calling him an idiot. He laughed softly when he saw the text response.

_Dummy... I miss you so much._

_I’ll see you at work tomorrow._ Sousuke promised via text. His hands itched with excitement. Oh, to hold Makoto again, kiss him again. He’d never get tired of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date 👏🏼 Time 👏🏼


	29. Enamored

Sousuke was, in a single word, ecstatic. He felt like he might vibrate out of his skin as he sat very still in the break room at work. He could hear Makoto’s voice down the hall, and he’d been anxiously waiting to hear it again since the night before. Hearing Makoto’s confessions had perhaps short-circuited him, but he’d never felt more whole than he did right now. His other half was coming now, and he almost wanted to run down the hall to see him sooner. His fingers itched, and he stretched them slowly. Just a few weeks ago, he had been sad because he’d forgotten what kissing Makoto or holding him felt like, but now... now he knew, and he could experience the earth-shattering pleasures as much as he liked. If only Makoto would walk faster...

There was a pause and then steps hurried down the hall towards the break room, like Makoto had heard his heartfelt wish. Sousuke tried to look as casual as possible, hand scratching behind his head when Makoto burst into the door frame, eyes landing instantly on Sousuke. The look on his face could make Sousuke live forever. Makoto coughed, trying to shift down the excitement on his face as Nagisa and Kisumi slid around him and into the room. Makoto was trying so hard, just like Sousuke, to look _normal_.

“Makoto, are you constipated?” asked Nagisa loudly with a worried tone. Sousuke had to bite back a smile. Ah, his gorgeous Makoto was trying so hard to not look like his whole world was sitting just a few feet away, but this was all Sousuke had ever wanted.

“I’m fine,” choked his pretty brunet boy. He stepped forward, peripheral vision on Sousuke as he mechanically moved to his locker. Sousuke would only take a moment to get dressed, so for now he was spending his time instead looking for opportunities to touch Makoto, undistracted. He sat and just fiddled with his thumbs and tried to inconspicuously watch Makoto, but it was hard when two busy bodies kept floating around him.

“Makoto, I heard you went out last night!” crooned Nagisa. 

“Did you get some tail?” Kisumi joked.

“Ah,” whispered Makoto, eyes darting to where Sousuke sat before he could stop himself. “Mm, a little, I guess...”

“Only a little?” whined Nagisa in disappointment.

“I’m sure he’s being modest. He probably had everyone begging to dance with him and take him home.”

Sousuke watched out of the corner of his eye as Makoto’s face went bright red, and his eyebrow quirked up. He’d been so concerned with only Makoto that he hadn’t even thought to ask... Well, of course Makoto would be popular. Sousuke dropped his head down to hide his jealous frown. Makoto had felt apologetic for the night, from the conversation he’d overheard thanks to Gou, but he’d never bothered to ask why. He wondered now if he really wanted to know...

“Tell us, Mako~!” whined Nagisa, naked and clinging to Makoto’s arm as he undressed. 

Makoto turned and too calmly said, “Well, I did dance with a few guys...”

Nagisa and Kisumi momentarily distracted in their ecstasy, Makoto glanced cautiously at Sousuke, who looked up through his dark lashes and meet pretty green eyes. It wasn’t that he was upset that it had happened; Makoto had owed him nothing back then. In fact, if it had helped the other realize his feelings for Sousuke, how could he be mad at all? But the fact that Makoto felt bad about it, and the jealousy that random strangers had touched what was now _his_ , made him unable to smile.

Still, he mouthed, “It’s okay,” to his gorgeous Makoto, offering the most reassuring look he could give. Makoto’s eyes shifted down, face coloring and expression shifting to relief just as Nagisa face planted into his chest, arms around his whole frame.

“My little Makoto, you’re growing up! Mama Nagisa’s so proud of you!”

Kisumi groaned and complained, but Makoto rested his chin on a bed of blond hair and smiled at the other. “Thanks, guys.”

Nagisa let Makoto go finally in favor of dressing himself, and while Makoto moved slowly, Nagisa rushed to dress, to run out and see his boyfriend before the club opened. Kisumi lingered, but every chance they got, when Kisumi’s back was turned, they reached for each other, fingers touching softly, reassuring little rubs. Every time their skin touched, Sousuke felt renewed. His skin tingled from the heat they shared. Oh, he wanted to hold Makoto and kiss him and damn it, his legs looked so good... Sousuke couldn’t help himself as he stared.

“Sousuke, don’t you need to get dressed, too?” Kisumi asked, and Sousuke’s head snapped to the man like he’d been pulled out of a daydream. Deep purple eyes watched him like the other could see everything, as Sousuke blinked and tried to remember words.

“Ah... yeah...” He stood awkwardly, his body feeling suddenly too big, and he shuffled to his own locker. Kisumi sighed behind him and turned back to put the finishing touches on his make-up.

“I’m headed out, Makoto. Don’t dilly dally too much longer.” And with that, Kisumi too was gone, and it was just Makoto and Sousuke.

Like mirrored images, they spin around to face each other the instant the door clicked shut, eyes roaming on bare skin. Sousuke’s shirt was clutched in his hands, and Makoto had been slipping on the second strap of his outfit for the night. When had he gotten into that thing? Sousuke could barely breathe looking at him. Could he touch? His eyes roamed hungrily over lace-wrapped and milky bare skin. Makoto wore a white body suit type thing with soft pink touches of lace, the top part mostly just a deep v-neck that stretched down to just above his pelvis, the bottom a pair of tiny, lacy shorts. Makoto, of course, looked mouthwateringly amazing, but what caught Sousuke the most was the little turquoise jewel, encased in shiny silver, that hung from Makoto’s belly button. It hadn’t been there a few days ago.

“Oh fuck...” Sousuke husked. “What is that?”

He had to forcibly drag his eyes up to Makoto’s face as the other shifted on his bare feet. His head was turned towards the lockers and he was pressing his lips together like he was nervous. Hands came up and covered the piercing like it was a big flaw, but Makoto had obviously missed the tent rising in Sousuke’s jeans. He clenched his hands, trying so desperately to hold back. Slowly, he released a hot breath of air.

“I mean, fuck, baby... that’s really hot.” His voice went too high near the end, and Makoto’s eyes darted hopefully to Sousuke, his whole face lighting up, lips melting into a relieved smile.

“Yeah?” he asked in an adorable, nervous voice.

“Oh, yeah...” groaned Sousuke. He dropped his shirt, looked around and then slowly advanced towards Makoto. “God, you’re so insanely hot. Like, you’ve always been really attractive, but lately, I feel like I’m in the presence of some kind of angurmh-“

Sousuke’s words were cut off as a hand grabbed impatiently at the back of his neck and Makoto flew up on tippy toes to plant his lips to Sousuke’s. Electricity sparked between them, fire igniting. Sousuke rushed forward as an instant response, grabbed Makoto up and pulled the man against him. Makoto let out the sexiest little noise, and Sousuke pressed his tongue out into Makoto’s open mouth, eating the other up. His skin was so soft and warm against Sousuke’s chest. The lace rubbed between them and ignited Sousuke’s passions. Oh, this was so dangerous. He wanted to push Makoto to the bench and ruin him right then and there. His lips slid down Makoto’s jaw and he nibbled at the brunet’s neck, smelling so illegally sweet.

Hands fluttered between them, Makoto panting hard, his heart pounding against Sousuke’s chest and matching the other’s. Fingers gripped at the button of his jeans as Makoto huffed, “You have to get dressed,” like their jobs were still his main priority. Like he wasn’t hard in his lingerie, rubbing against the friction Sousuke’s jeans provided. Still, Sousuke would play along. He helped Makoto’s hands with his pants, with pushing them off. Four hands worked restlessly to ruck off the pants, to push them down and off. The moment Sousuke was freed from them, he pulled Makoto back to himself, hands sinking underneath to grip at plush ass cheeks, lips meeting eagerly again. He ground their erections together, mouth salivating at the thought of Makoto hard, of Makoto against him, wanting him...

Makoto’s hands moved over Sousuke’s back, gripping, feeling, memorizing like he wanted to make sure his memories lined up with reality. Makoto had always loved touching Sousuke’s back, he could remember that much. He hated that he hadn’t taken his time to enjoy it back then, to let Makoto’s hands on him mean something more than just a friendly touch. Back then, he hadn’t known what loving Makoto felt like. He’d been so stupidly wrapped up in himself. Even though he’d agreed to date Makoto, he regretted now that he’d thought it was odd, for a man to date another. Makoto had been just a good friend back then; Sousuke hadn’t discovered his own sexuality back then yet, just going with the flow. In truth, he hadn’t really known anything about himself until he’d freed himself from his selfish thoughts and looked at the world around him. It had seemed easier to let others think for him, to dictate his actions. 

Saying yes to Makoto back then had been easier than rejecting him, making Makoto sad and having to deal with that, with losing a friend. Even dating Ayame had been like having a life planner in charge of everything but swimming. It had been... easy. But Sousuke didn’t want easy anymore. He wanted to experience things, feel things. He wanted life to be hard and throw him curveballs, because that meant he could also enjoy moments like this, of passion and love and overflowing happiness. Swimming had consumed him entirely, and while he would never stop loving it, there were other, more important things in life. Things like Makoto, who was so precious, who was everything Sousuke wanted in a partner. 

While Sousuke would have been wrapped up before in the fact that Makoto was a man like him, it didn’t factor in now, not when he simply _loved_ the person that Makoto was. Loving Makoto and admitting it was freeing; Sousuke was finally feeling like himself. He nibbled at Makoto’s fat bottom lip and smiled into the kiss they shared. It had taken a lot of time wasted and pain and unnecessary heart ache to get here, and regrettable scars for Makoto that Sousuke would always feel guilty for, but this moment made everything else fade away. Makoto was soft and hard and warm and sweet-smelling.

Voices sounded outside the door and they pulled away, three steps apart and trying to act innocent as the voices passed by outside, but it had reminded them of where they were. Still, Makoto rushed over and pressed to Sousuke’s side, breathing hard but trying to maintain control as he said, “I’ll help you get dressed.”

Sousuke pulled out his shorts but Makoto yanked them away, stuffing them in his own locker. “Those are for my eyes only now. Wear your pants, you gorgeous human.”

Sousuke couldn’t help but laugh, but he obediently pulled out his black slacks instead, still neatly hung inside his locker from the last time he’d worn them, and he slipped them on. Makoto buttoned them up for him, hands working diligently as he zipped the zipper up, too. His hands lingered for a moment, heated eyes slipping up as he pressed his palm to Sousuke’s hardness. He let out a rough, needy little breath.

“Sou, I want you so badly.” It was just a statement of facts, like saying “I love you.” In fact, it was one of the ways Makoto probably said it. Sousuke nodded, his hands slipping over Makoto’s back.

“You know it’s the same for me, but let’s be patient. I want to do this right.”

“I know,” whispered Makoto, fingers softly trailing over Sousuke’s abs, his head bowed down. Sousuke kissed the crown of his head, his hair soft and smelling so nice.

He placed his hands over Makoto’s on his chest, waited until gorgeous green eyes met his own. “I don’t want our first time to be rushed, in the break room of work. I want to make it something really special.”

“Well, it’s not our first time-“ Makoto reminded Sousuke, but the other shook his head.

“No, this will be our _real_ first time. I didn’t treasure you enough back then to know what taking your virginity meant. So we’re erasing the past and we’re starting all over, from this moment. Forget anyone else that’s ever touched you, including myself. This moment is the beginning of our sexual journey.”

Makoto’s lips pressed together and he unsuccessfully tried to suppress a giggle, but Sousuke smiled and kissed his nose. It sounded silly, but it was how he really felt.

“Help me with my shirt?” he whispered with a smile, and Makoto nodded. Sousuke slipped on the sleeveless shirt, Makoto buttoning it as the other tied his bow tie. Makoto looked up at Sousuke again when he was finished and smiled softly.

“I never thought the one to treat me so sweetly would be you.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” Sousuke frowned, but Makoto shook his head, smiling.

“I truly loved you back then, even the way you were. Of course, I love you more now, and everyday, but to me, the Sousuke you were then and the Sousuke you are now are both Sousukes that I love.”

“Tell me you prefer me being sweet at least,” Sousuke groaned pitifully, and Makoto laughed. His hand came up and he cupped Sousuke’s cheek, eyes melting and smile so sweet.

“Of course, my dear. Please always treat me gently from now on.”

Makoto dipped his voice down and added, “Unless we’re in bed,” like the cheeky little butt he was. Sousuke grabbed him up by the legs and kissed him recklessly for being so cheeky, loving it absolutely. He was in love with every facet that made up Makoto. His softness, his giant heart, his kindness, and his flirty nature. Sousuke would draw everything out to its full potential, only for himself. Only he would truly know Makoto, every part of him, just as only Makoto would ever see every side of Sousuke.

“We gotta go,” hushed Makoto as voices sounded again. They slowly slipped apart, each taking one more moment to look the other over, to let their lower halves calm down.

“Baby, you look gorgeous and it’s a crime that you have to go out there and show this to anyone else.”

Makoto tilted his head and smiled.

“Well, I won’t mind as much once everyone knows you’re mine,” Sousuke said as he turned, a possessively proud grin on his lips. Hands grabbed around his arm as Makoto ran after him, only slipping away when Sousuke opened the door. Makoto slipped his heels on and followed after Sousuke like nothing had happened at all, both cool, calm, and collected. Still, no one was fooled. It was hard to ignore when neither had looked this happy in ages.

Rei shook his head behind the bar and sighed. These two were truly fools in love. 

x

Makoto could spend the whole day talking to Sousuke and then again at night. He felt like they had so much to catch up on. They could talk about everything and nothing. The friendship they’d had before became the foundation for their quickly growing relationship.

Sousuke wanted photos of everything. Makoto with bedhead, Makoto brushing his teeth, Makoto making dinner and Makoto watching TV. What was he doing, what was he wearing, what was he thinking? And Makoto, Makoto adored the attention. He loved hearing Sousuke take interest and ask him about all the little things. He loved hearing Sousuke talk about the things he enjoyed, loved hearing him ramble. He loved just... hearing Sousuke breathing on the other end.

“Have you told anyone yet? About us?” Sousuke asked a few days after Makoto’s wild night out.

Makoto’s lips crept up into a smile, and he asked shyly, “Us?”

Sousuke fell silent, and then huffed like he was embarrassed. “Yeah, you know.”

“Can you tell me anyways?” Makoto snuggled into his bed, his pillow hugged tight to his chest. Peanut Butter lay against his back, purring softly in deep sleep. It was peaceful; Makoto was content like he hadn’t been in a very long time.

“Well... cause we’re... you know... _us_... now.”

“Sousuke~” purred Makoto with a tremble. Sousuke shivered and cursed on the other end.

“‘Cause you’re my boyfriend now!” he finally yelped, and Makoto felt his whole body come alive at the words.

“Sousuke~” he growled possessively. 

“...If you want to be...”

Makoto had never known how vulnerable Sousuke could be before this. Sousuke had always seemed like a rock, a steady support, but now he was this regular, emotional man. He was easily wounded and he cared very deeply. Makoto still found himself being amazed by Sousuke. “Of course I want to be...” he whispered back, pulling his pillow to his nose. He wanted to be snuggled against Sousuke, inhaling his scent. He wanted to feel the man’s body and warmth. “And no... I haven’t told anyone yet.”

Sousuke was quiet, just a hum of acknowledgement. “I love you, Makoto,” he finally said softly, warmly, and Makoto felt fuzzy inside.

“I love you,” he murmured back, a big, goofy grin on his face.

“I want to tell the whole world you’re mine.”

“Me too...”

Sousuke chuckled hesitantly. “I want to tell everyone... but your friends scare me.”

Makoto had to pull his phone down as he tossed his head back and laughed aloud. “It’s not that funny!” yelled Sousuke’s tiny voice and Makoto started laughing all over again.

A noise stopped his laughter cold, and he went eerily still, his phone pressed to his chest now as he listened. The night outside was quiet, too quiet. He slowly raised his phone again, just his breathing breaking the silence softly. The noise came again, like someone scratching at the side of the wall outside.

“What’s wrong?” Sousuke asked, instantly alert and in tune with Makoto’s feelings. Makoto could barely breathe, though, let alone respond. The scratching sound moved closer, closer, louder. Makoto slowly stood up from the bed and moved to stand back against the door leading to the living room. Peanut’s head snapped up, and she was by his feet in seconds, fur bristled and teeth showing at the window by the bed.

He’d heard this sound before, again when he was all alone in the house. He’d tried to convince himself it was just a branch against the side of the building, but hearing it again dispelled that calming lie.

“Mako? Baby?”

“Sou...” Makoto whispered in his tiniest voice. His hands were shaking now. The sound was triggering some deep fear that had grown in Makoto. This fear had a name; it was Kai. Makoto’s knees buckled as the sound moved closer still, until there was the softest, little tap at his window and silence fell. Makoto nearly messed his pants. He was scared to even breathe. He knew. _He knew._ Kai was outside. He just knew it. And like a confirmation; like the man telepathically knew, there was another tap, a knock this time, at his window. Makoto fell to the ground and backpedalled into the living room, eyes shooting to the front door. It was locked, dead bolted. He scooped Peanut Butter up into his arms and pressed the cat to his chest, two thundering heartbeats pressed together, and he cupped his shaky hand over his mouth as he whispered fiercely, “Sousuke-!”

Makoto heard something clatter on the other end of the phone, like Sousuke had knocked something over.

“Sousuke... He- There’s someone... outside-!” _Knock... knock... knock..._ The knocking was too timed to be nature.

“I’m coming,” Sousuke said without even a second of pause, but Makoto urgently yelped for him not to. If Kai was really outside, what would he do to Sousuke? Tears slicked hot down Makoto’s cheeks.

“Please don’t,” he begged. 

“Call the police then!”

Makoto clutched his phone tighter to his face. He couldn’t. He couldn’t move. He didn’t want to be cut off from Sousuke. “I can’t, Sousuke,” he whimpered brokenly. Peanut was agitated to say the least, but deathly still in Makoto’s arms, round eyes staring into the darkness like she could see out.

“I’ll call-“ hushed Sousuke. “Don’t move, Makoto. Is the door locked? Your window?”

“Yes. Yes!” The knocking grew slowly faster, incrementally louder. It seemed to move with Makoto like it knew where he was. “Sousuke,” Makoto whispered urgently, not even sure if Sousuke would hear him if he was talking to the police. “He’s moving... to the front door.”

If it was Kai, he was cornering Makoto. He could feel it like dread in his bones, chilling him. Every memory and emotion from his relationship with Kai rushed back, every negative thing crushing him with blinding fear. His heart was racing and he thought he might pass out at this rate.

“Sousuke, he’s at the door!”

A pause, and then static crackling. Makoto felt true fear, but Sousuke’s voice came through. “They’re coming, Makoto.”

“I can’t do this-“ Makoto choked out.

“Baby, please just hold on. He can’t get inside. I’m here-“ Sousuke sounded to be in pain.

Makoto felt fear like a box trying to shut his mind inside. It was cold and dark inside. He couldn’t deal with this anymore. Why wouldn’t Kai just leave him alone?! Every time he thought he could breathe, when he thought he was safe and free, the man came back like a cancer.

Minutes ticked by, Makoto’s eyes glued to the lock at the front door, looking for the slightest turning; all he could hear was that incessant tapping, knocking, moving to the door, on the door, up and down, left to right. His heart raced a mile a minute. Just when he thought he’d surely die like this, a distant siren whooped through the night, and the knocking instantly stopped.

There was a creaking step outside, then silence again, the siren’s moving closer. Like a last threat, once more, a sharp knock sounded, and then the presence outside was gone. Makoto could physically feel it, but he waited, unmoving. Peanut jumped out of his arms and skittered to the door, ready.

Voices sounded outside, a key in the lock. “This is my home. What’s problem, officers?” Seijuro was saying.

“Makoto?” gasped Sousuke like he’d been holding his breath.

“Sei’s here,” Makoto squeaked out. He tried to stand but his legs gave way beneath him. Seijuro opened the door and three pairs of eyes looked in just in time to see Makoto slump to his knees on the hardwood floor. He dropped his phone, every muscle unwinding at once, and he couldn’t move, eyes going blind for a moment with the rush of pure, unadulterated relief.

“Makoto!” yelped Seijuro, rushing forward. “What happened?!”

Makoto grabbed at Seijuro’s arm across his chest, Seijuro trying to pull him up and hold him. He looked up with big, teary eyes, shaking.

“He was here...” Makoto wheezed out, the only thing he could do. Seijuro went stiff, his grip tighter. He turned to the police officers with wide eyes, shocked, the two men in uniform waiting expectantly.

“I’ll talk to them, sweetness,” Seijuro told the brunet, slowly leaning him against the couch again, golden eyes flashing with wild anger at the man who had made Makoto like this. He stood, hands fisted, veins throbbing. He marched himself outside with a god-given purpose and shut the door so Makoto wouldn’t have to hear a retelling of his darkest hours. Makoto sank against the floor and lay there, unable to say a single word.

“Makoto, my love, please let me know you’re okay-!” Sousuke’s voice was tinny in the empty apartment. Pushing the phone back to his ear, Makoto grunted, all he could do as tears came and choked him. Peanut Butter curled against his chest and licked sadly at his wet face. He made a noise again, strengthened by her presence, this time louder but much more quaky. Sousuke let out a long sigh of slow relief.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t-“ He was going to say he didn’t know, but he did know. He knew all too well. “-think so...” he finished instead.

“I’ll come-“

Makoto nodded, even though he wasn’t sure Seijuro would even let Sousuke in, and Makoto couldn’t step a single foot outside. His hands shook so bad, Sousuke’s breathing seemed to shake in his ear. Makoto couldn’t live like this. He couldn’t-

“Makoto, you need to get a restraining order.”

“I can’t face him-!”

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together, but you need to. For when I’m not there-“

Makoto let loose an ugly sob, and as the officers came inside to talk to Makoto, he clung desperately to his phone and cat as he gave his information over to start the process for a restraining order against Kai, Makoto’s ex.

x

Sousuke was currently having a stare down with Raphael and Seijuro, Makoto waving his hands and sweating as he tried to diffuse the situation. Makoto had just wanted to swim with Sousuke...

The pool had been empty when they’d arrived, Seijuro letting them in after Sousuke swore no funny stuff in his freshly cleaned pool. That had been all well and good until Makoto had pulled on the new swim jammers Seijuro had gifted him and Sousuke had gone mad with jealousy, lifting Makoto against the lockers and trying to rip his pants off when Raphael had walked in.

“What are you doing to my angel?!” he’d yelped, and Makoto had flushed red in embarrassment. Raphael’s voice had alerted Seijuro and that was how it came to the current stand off.

“I thought I told you no hanky panky with my Makoto.”

“We weren’t in the pool! And he’s my Makoto now!” Sousuke’s face was turning red as he tried to hold back his burning rage, Makoto sweating furiously.

“Seijuro!” he scolded, knowing the redhead was egging Sousuke on, mostly just here for his own enjoyment.

“It’s my center!” chided Seijuro back.

“ _Mon ange!_ Makoto!” Raphael yelped, not helping at all. Two pairs of hands grabbed at Makoto and he was pulled between Raphael and Seijuro’s bulky bodies, and both sang, “What are you doing to this sweet boy?”

Sousuke just stared in disbelief at the three of them, and Makoto thought he might cry. He clenched his fists and stomped one foot and then the other onto two bare feet. Raphael and Seijuro yelped in pain and Makoto fled to the safety of Sousuke’s arms.

“You two are being cruel!” scolded the brunet loudly. Only he had the power to make two grown men look so guilty as they nursed their wounds. He was fuming, Sousuke staring at him in wonder and adoration as he yelled, “Sousuke’s my boyfriend and I won’t stand for it! He can do whatever he wants to me and you have no right to tell him he can’t!”

Raphael and Seijuro stared with big eyes at Makoto, shocked that their sweet friend had gotten so angry and yelled at them. Instantly, their defenses came out.

“He stole you from me!” huffed Seijuro.

“Darling, I want you to be treated with kindness-“

Makoto stomped his foot like a toddler in a tantrum and shut the two up. “I love you both, but Sousuke is the one I’m in love with, so you better be nice and let us be!”

Two sets of lips pressed into thin, white lines, and both men nodded submissively. “Yes, cuteness,” Seijuro murmured, and from Raphael, “Of course, _mon petit belle_.”

Sousuke growled at them but Makoto turned and hugged the man to himself. Strong arms wrapped around his back in return and Sousuke pressed his cheek to Makoto’s hair. Footsteps receded and the couple was left alone. Sousuke leaned down and whispered into Makoto’s ear, “Let’s skinny dip in the asshole’s pool.”

“Sou!” Makoto scolded as he pulled back, but Sousuke looked so depressed that he pressed two hands to his cheeks instead. “Don’t be spiteful,” he whispered with a sweet smile.

“I’m not! ...I just can’t stand the thought of you wearing jammers that guy bought for you.” 

“It’s the only pair I have!”

“I’ll buy you new ones, as many as you want,” Sousuke said as he pressed his forehead to Makoto’s. “Just... for tonight... you should go without them.”

Makoto flushed red, but he took Sousuke’s hand and quietly walked him to the pool. Sousuke sat down at the edge and slipped his feet in. Satisfied with the warmth, he slipped in and then turned to hold his arms open for Makoto.

Makoto blushed softly and looked this way and that, making sure they were really alone, and then he slowly pulled off his swim pants. Sousuke’s arms slowly dropped as he watched, mesmerized, slowly pulling himself closer to the edge of the pool, eyes on Makoto’s figure as it was slowly revealed to him. When Makoto stood back up again, jammers gone, Sousuke let out a sigh of ecstasy. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the starlight shining through the glass roof. Makoto felt self-conscious, but Sousuke reached for him again. With careful steps, Makoto stepped forward to take the hand offered, sitting down and letting Sousuke pull him gently into the warm water. Being bare, the water touched every part of Makoto, and he let out a small whine as Sousuke drew him to his strong chest.

“Sorry-“ murmured Makoto apologetically, knowing he looked different than he had before, scars on his body. He felt twisted and ugly, but Sousuke shushed him.

“My darling, you’re gorgeous.”

Heat flooded Makoto’s body, feeling the full weight of those words and how much Sousuke believed them. Makoto felt blessed beyond measure; he could have waited a lifetime for this sweet man, but he was glad it had only been a few years. He could have waited, but in reality, he was very impatient. Sousuke felt wonderful against his bare skin, water hugging him where Sousuke’s body didn’t reach. He felt comforted by being surrounded like this, and Sousuke was warm.

He didn’t realize Sousuke was crying until he spoke again, his voice choked up. “Really, you’re so beautiful. I hate that another man touched you like that guy did; I should have been there to protect you. I hate that you have such good friends who love you so much, because I want you to be only mine, completely. But most of all, I hate that it took me... so long... to realize.” Sousuke pulled back and swam them out to the center of the pool, floating easily as he held Makoto. Makoto cupped his hands on Sousuke’s wet cheeks, smiling sadly. “You’re the only one I need, Mako. You’re my whole world, and you’re stunningly, blindingly beautiful.”

“Oh,” whispered Makoto, whatever he’d been about to say stolen from him as Sousuke kissed his lips. More than words, this kiss spoke volumes of desire and regret. Makoto didn’t want Sousuke to carry the burden of his own bad choices, of the choices of a bad man. He wanted Sousuke to just love him, happily, unburdened with the past. But Sousuke loved Makoto, and Sousuke wanted to carry what Makoto had carried for so long. He took it upon himself to lessen the load, to rid Makoto of it completely. Warm hands skated over Makoto’s sides, and he moaned into the kiss.

“Let’s swim. I want to swim with you again,” Sousuke husked as he pulled away, parting their bodies. He made sure Makoto was floating himself before he ducked under the water, maneuvering. Makoto stared at him with big, confused eyes, until his boyfriend came back up and triumphantly held up his own jammers, now off his body.

“Sousuke!” Makoto yelped with a laugh. The other swam back up to him with that majestic ease he had and he hugged Makoto to him with one beefy arm. Makoto melted as he laughed again.

“I love you,” beamed Sousuke, tossing his pants in a ball to the tile floor where Makoto’s jammers lay.

“I love you more!” Sousuke pulled a face, and Makoto laughed.

“Impossible,” husked Sousuke with the most adoring, soft look in his gorgeous eyes. Makoto could drown in those pools of aqua.

“Swim with me, Sou,” he asked, excitement fluttering in his tummy. They parted again, swimming to the edge of the pool where the diving platforms sat. The lane dividers had been pulled out to clean the pool, but that didn’t matter to them. They both pulled up on the bar, eyes on each other. Sousuke counted down in a husky voice from three, and they dove backwards into the pool.

 _Ah._ This feeling was the ultimate nostalgia. For someone who had thought he’d never swim with Sousuke like this again, it made Makoto want to cry when he saw Sousuke next to him, giving it his all, really competing against Makoto. Makoto, who was out of practice and a little slower, but Sousuke believed in him. He wasn’t babying him. He believed Makoto could keep up, that silent faith that had always been the bedrock of their friendship.

Sousuke slapped his hand against the pool wall when he’d finished his lap back, Makoto lagging behind and panting hard. Sousuke turned as he pulled himself up again, watching.

“You can do this, Makoto!” he yelled, his voice resounding through the place with the faith he’d always carried. To hear those words... Makoto surged forward faster, to get to the end, to get to Sousuke. He veered to the left a little, and Sousuke dropped down just in time to catch Makoto as his body collided against his boyfriend’s.

“You did it,” whispered Sousuke with so much pride. He hugged Makoto to his chest, lifting him with an arm under his bare ass. Makoto’s legs slid around Sousuke’s waist and he curled over the man’s body as he panted, heart slamming against his rib cage.

“I did it,” he whispered with weepy pride and too much emotion. Tears fell as happiness rushed through his chest.

Sousuke pulled his head down, his own tilted back as he kissed Makoto with all their high emotions melting together. Makoto opened his lips and soon enough Sousuke’s tongue pressed against his own, licking to engage it, to curl around his. Sousuke’s kiss was still rough, but it was so sexy in its very own way; Makoto could not even begin to describe how it excited him to no end. He wrapped his arms around Sousuke’s strong back, fingernails scraping up and down to feel the rise and fall of muscles. Sousuke shivered and pulled Makoto’s head closer, deepening the kiss until Makoto could barely breathe, but who would want to? Their saliva mixed and tongues danced together, both so hungry for each other.

Sousuke pulled back and let Makoto slip down a little, something hard pressing to Makoto’s taint. Sousuke pressed his forehead to Makoto’s again, eyes shut tight. “I promised our first time would be proper, but damn, I want to take you right here and now, Mako...”

Makoto shivered and gave a small mewl. When he shifted, Sousuke’s cock rubbed against his balls and between his thighs. He wanted it too; he needed Sousuke to ravage him, to ruin him. But he wouldn’t pressure Sousuke, who wanted more than anything to make this so, so special for them both. Makoto held his tongue, his desires silenced in the face of an earnest Sousuke who was trying so hard.

Sousuke dropped his head back as his cock rubbed against Makoto, letting out a sharp, heated gasp. He looked back up, eyes full of fire. “I want to be good...” he choked out, “but just a little... Just a little; I want to feel you against me.”

Sousuke pulled his cock up, wrapping his big hand around his own and Makoto’s length; capturing the gasp from the brunet’s lips in another kiss. Makoto’s fingers tightened on Sousuke’s shoulders, worried about the pool getting dirty, but he couldn’t speak, not when Sousuke was kissing him and touching him like this. Oh, he was melting. He sank against Sousuke’s chest and hugged the man tight. Nails raked up and down his strong back. Sousuke clung to him, and he felt safer than ever before, weightless even, head light as Sousuke jerked them off together. Sousuke’s cock was big and hot; Makoto had forgotten that Sousuke was such a good size. 

He moaned as Sousuke’s lips skirted over his neck, bucking up into the man’s hand. Like he was hungry, Sousuke’s teeth scraped over his skin where his pulse pounded, lips suckling at wet skin to put his mark on his beloved. Makoto couldn’t last like this; he panted into the warm, moist air around them that he was close. Sousuke sucked a violent hickey onto his shoulder at Makoto’s words, and with curled toes and a choked cry, Makoto came into the pool. Sousuke was not far behind, pulling back and giving a sexy grunt as he came over his hand, the pool water murky around them until it slowly washed away. His aqua eyes were shut and his face was washed in ecstasy, and Makoto felt smitten, thinking Sousuke had never looked as beautiful as this. This, this was the face he’d wanted to see Sousuke make. The face that said he felt incredibly good, satisfied, satiated. The face that screamed that he was in love. Aqua eyes snapped open and Sousuke drank Makoto in, licking slowly at his lips as he observed his handiwork, a collection of growing love bites on Makoto’s pale skin.

“We dirtied the water,” Makoto whispered as he tried to scoop out their releases, but Sousuke gripped his jaw and kissed him again, not minding the mess at all.

“It’s just my own spitefulness,” he said as he pulled back with a wide grin, and Makoto smacked at his chest. “Come home with me tonight,” Sousuke whispered, more serious.

“You know Seijuro would kill you, and then me.”

“He’s not the boss of you.”

Makoto knew that, but he was quiet. He wanted to go home with Sousuke, but he knew how that would end. They wouldn’t be able to control themselves, and he wanted to give Sousuke the chance to make it perfect.

“Christmas is coming soon,” he whispered instead. He nudged his nose to Sousuke’s. Sousuke’s breath hitched as he caught on.

“A perfect present...” he murmured quietly, pulling Makoto closer.

“Let’s do this right, Sou.” Makoto gave a short nod, green eyes earnest on Sousuke’s blazing ones.

“Yeah,” he husked, his voice flushed with gratitude. “Yes. You’re right. A Christmas date and then...” The rest didn’t need to be said. Makoto kissed Sousuke lightly.

“Swim with me again,” Sousuke husked as he shut his eyes and leaned his forehead once again to Makoto’s. “No racing; let’s just swim together.”

Makoto nodded. Sousuke slowly opened his eyes, and he smiled. “From now on, I’ll swim with you forever, Sousuke. I promise.”

Sousuke’s cheeks rushed with color and his smile nearly broke his face, eyes squeezing shut again. “You make me so unbelievably happy, baby.”

“Me, too. You... make me so happy, Sou.”

A tear slid down silent until Sousuke caught it with his lips, licking it away. Makoto couldn’t wait; he was finally looking forward to the future again. It seemed bright once more, like when he’d been a kid and the whole world had been wide open for him. Sousuke had always been the only thing he’d needed; it had taken a while, but they’d learned things along the way that would only make their commitments stronger. There was no doubt that this wouldn’t last now. They only had each other, all they needed, and it was more than enough for a whole lifetime.

Their life would just keep flowing out, like water over their skin, an endless pool for them to swim in together forever. Happiness was pure and simple, Makoto thought as he swam beside the man he loved more than his own life.

x

It felt like deja vu, but the really good kind. Makoto had been getting ready for work when Sousuke had crept up and hugged him from behind, and now they were making out against the lockers. “You have to get out there,” Makoto panted against Sousuke’s lips. The other pulled back and began kissing down his neck instead.

“Are you going to cover these hickies?” Sousuke pouted as he kissed at the marks he’d left just last night. Makoto flushed at the reminder of their time in the pool. Seijuro had scolded Sousuke so badly when he’d discovered them, butt naked, in his pool. He’d made Sousuke clean the pool all over again, but the man hadn’t minded one bit, grinning and winking at Makoto the whole time, much to Seijuro’s annoyance.

“I have to! Everyone will find out-“

“Don’t cover them. That’s why I put them there,” Sousuke grumbled as he pulled Makoto to him, hands sliding up inside his baby doll top, possessive. Makoto flushed a deep red, afraid to admit he was turned on.

“It’s bad for business,” Makoto shivered, his hold on Sousuke’s biceps like a vice grip. He had to be the rational one, so he grit his teeth, even as the look on Sousuke’s face made him want to do anything he could for the other man.

Sousuke bit at Makoto’s skin, and he had to cover up a howl. “I don’t care about that.” 

“What about everyone else-!”

“We should just tell them,” Sousuke said matter-of-factly like it didn’t bother him at all. 

“Tell who what?”

Makoto’s head snapped towards the door, but Sousuke continued, unconcerned. Kisumi and Nagisa stood in the doorway, one more perturbed than the other; Makoto tried to push Sousuke off of him.

“Nagisa, I don’t think I need to explain the scene before our eyes, do I?” Kisumi said as he shifted on his feet and crossed his arms. He was smiling like he would enjoy the fall out of what he’d just discovered.

“ _Are you two dating?!_ ” screamed Nagisa, eyes bugging out.

“Ah, finally...” murmured a voice behind the blond, and Nagisa whipped around to find Rei standing there, unsurprised.

“You knew?!” cried Nagisa and Makoto together.

Rei just rolled his eyes and smiled. “You two are terrible at hiding this stuff.”

Nagisa stomped his feet and pouted, turning back to the two criminals. “I can’t believe you guys! Makoto, you-“

“I love him!” yelped Makoto in a panic, eyes shut and fists clenched in Sousuke’s shirt. The other murmured against his neck, whispering sinful things that were making Makoto’s cheeks burn. He needed some kind of mercy.

“Congratulations, you two,” huffed Kisumi, smiling proudly.

“Kisumi! Not you too!” whined Nagisa, turning to his friend. The pink-haired male laughed, shrugged.

“Nagisa, it’s not like us being mad about it is going to make them break up. They’re happy... Let’s be happy for them.”

Nagisa deflated like a popped balloon, and Rei slipped an arm around his waist to hold him up. “Okay,” he murmured pitifully, eyes wet.

Kisumi grinned and turned nonchalantly, waving over his shoulder. “Just don’t be late for work.”

“Makoto, since when...?” pouted Nagisa in defeat, and Sousuke finally released the brunet so he could walk over to their smaller co-worker.

“It’s only been a week-“

“A week?!” Nagisa looked heartbroken. Makoto couldn’t tell him it was probably more like two weeks...

“Sorry, Nagisa...” Makoto’s lips twisted in regret, but Nagisa grabbed his arm, eyes darting around as he whispered fiercely, “You tell me if that guy tries anything funny with you.”

Makoto’s lips flashed up into a smile, and he grabbed Nagisa up into a tight hug. “You’re the best, but you don’t need to worry,” he chuckled against soft blond hair, so happy, brimming with pride.

Nagisa huffed, still in a bit of a tiff; Makoto watched him walk away with a goofy smile on his face. His eyes shifted up to Rei, who just smiled at him, gave him a pat on his shoulder. “Congrats. Be happy this time,” he said as he waved over his shoulder, already walking away with a knowing smile on his face.

“I will,” promised Makoto as Sousuke slinked up behind him to wrap his arms around his waist and nuzzle into his neck. “Oh...!”

He turned to look at Sousuke, who was pouting. “I told you we should have just told them-“

Makoto grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. “You were right,” he hummed as he pulled back with a smile. “But also crazy.”

“Only crazy for you,” murmured Sousuke, cheese dripping from every word, and Makoto shut his eyes and laughed, nuzzling to Sousuke’s nose.

During his lunch break, Makoto came back to a billion text messages, and after his shift, Gou showed up with Rin dragged behind her, Haru taking up the rear. In seconds flat, Haru was at the front of the little group, blue eyes zero’ed in on Sousuke. He marched up to the man as Gou was calling her greeting and calmly punched the taller male square in the jaw. Everyone’s mouths dropped open wide as Haru shook out his hand, eyes on Sousuke. “If you ever hurt Makoto,” he whispered, a little too calmly and bitterly, his tone pure ice, “I will never, ever forgive you.”

“Haru!” cried Makoto as he ran to his boyfriend’s side, gripping into his shirt to try to examine the wound. But Sousuke’s eyes were glued to Haru’s as he rubbed at his cheek, nodding obediently. When Haru slapped his other cheek, he shut his eyes and accepted it.

“That’s for hurting him in the first place.”

“You tell him, baby!” Rin cheered from behind Gou. 

“Haru!” screamed Makoto with tears in his eyes.

Everyone sobered up in a flash, all eyes on Makoto. Gou broke the silence with a big huff, stomping to Haru to grab his hair, her other hand filled with her brother’s red locks, as she forced two heads down in apology. “Apologize to them, both of you! I cannot believe either of you!”

Makoto stared in shock first at Haru, and then Rin as the man grumbled out a quiet apology. “Louder!” yelped Gou, smacking the back of her brother’s head.

“I’m sorry, Makoto, but I’ve been holding that in for a long time,” said Haru in a flat tone. Gou almost smacked him too, but when he lifted his head, there were tears on his cheeks, and he smiled painfully.

“Oh, Haru,” hushed Makoto as he ran to his best friend, swept him up in a hug. “I’m okay, I swear.”

Rin was shaking in his shoes now, still refusing to apologize, his lips trembling as he pressed them together. He couldn’t accept it; the man who had been Sousuke’s best friend felt the most responsibility for what had happened. The apology Gou wanted him to give meant forgiving himself, and Rin didn’t know if he could. Makoto pulled Haru with him as he walked to Rin’s side, pulling him up into a hug as well. Rin stared with wet eyes over Makoto’s shoulder at Sousuke, who looked pitiful with his red cheeks and downcast eyes.

“It’s okay, Rin. I’m okay,” Makoto whispered fiercely as he hugged Rin tightly. “I’ve already forgiven him, and accepted myself.”

“Makoto, I can’t-“

“It’s not your fault, Rin. It never was. And I- I love him, Rin. I always have, I always will. So I hope... that you both can be happy for us, and please, please be his friend again...”

Rin gave a shaky sigh, a little sob following, but he pulled himself together, Haru wrapping an arm around his waist. “If Makoto says it’s okay, I think-“

“I know!” huffed Rin in frustration, wiping roughly at his face with his sleeves. “I know better than anyone...”

He looked up with red-rimmed eyes and pointed straight at Sousuke. Aqua eyes met his own. “If you ever hurt this precious being, I will murder you.”

“Yes,” replied Sousuke somberly. “I won’t.”

“You better not!” huffed Rin again, and Makoto smiled big as he hugged his two friends to his chest.

“Thank you both, but please believe me when I say I’ve never been happier!” 

Haru laughed softly, and Rin grumbled out a, “Yeah, yeah, I know...”

When Makoto let him go, Rin walked over to Sousuke and smacked his hand against the man’s solid chest. “You were a real jerk back then, but I know I shouldn’t hold that against you any longer, especially not if Makoto’s forgiven you.”

Sousuke bowed his head to Rin. “Thank you for watching over him all this time,” he whispered in all earnest. Rin’s face shifted to shock when he heard it.

“You really have changed...” he murmured softly. He reached up then and pulled Sousuke into a bear hug, Sousuke’s arms instantly flying up to wrap around his best friend’s back.

Haru sighed softly against Makoto’s shoulder at the sight. “That was tiring...” he murmured against Makoto’s skin.

“Thank you, Haru,” Makoto whispered as he watched the scene before him with tears in his eyes. He never would have imagined this would be reality even a few weeks ago. He was grateful from the very bottom of his heart.

Gou smiled quietly as she watched it all. Seijuro had already said that he refused to apologize since Sousuke had stolen Makoto from him, but this was good enough for her. She snapped a secret photo to send to Seijuro to tease him. Looking at Makoto’s face as he looked at his boyfriend’s was enough to convince her that none of them had any need to worry. Sousuke had changed so much, and they should all be very proud of him.

When aqua eyes met hers, she gave him a big, cheesy smile, thumbs up and everything. He mouthed a thank you to her, and that was all she really needed. She waved her hand, but her heart swelled with pride none the less.

Gosh, she loved these goofs way too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter! 💓💕


	30. Reality’s Finally Better Than My Dreams

There was snow on the ground, and even though it was just a light dusting, Makoto thought this day couldn’t be more perfect. He stared in wonder out the window as he sat naked on his bed, wrapped in only a blanket, Peanut Butter in his lap. His phone buzzed against his thigh and he smiled when he looked down at the screen.

_Hello, my love bug. Are you awake? I want to see your face..._

Makoto grinned and picked up his phone, snapping a quick selfie, a peak of his bare shoulder like the tease he was. They’d been exchanging photos like this recently, and Sousuke had no qualms about showing off his own skin. Makoto thought it only fair he be able to do the same, but Sousuke always seemed to combust at any sign of Makoto’s nakedness. Still, it made Makoto smile wide.

 _Makoooo..._ He could almost hear the man groaning through the text. He laid down on his mattress, pulling his cat to his chest, and laughed, eyes bright as he stared at the window. He still had to pick out what clothes he’d wear. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed dressing up to impress his partner. He’d experienced it a bit with Raphael, but Sousuke made everything so much more fun than it had been before; Makoto wondered now why he’d waited so long for this. He regretted being so stubborn and stuck in the past. Sousuke was, in a single word, wonderful. He was beyond Makoto’s dreams, past or present, and every day he exceeded them again and again. Makoto never wanted this to end.

 _You have to wait._ Makoto texted, and Sousuke sent back a sad, _I know..._

_It’ll be worth it_ , replied Makoto in faith.

 _Of course it will._ The confidence in Sousuke’s response made Makoto’s cheeks rose. _You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment, for you..._

Makoto snuggled into his pillow and smiled against his phone. The next time he looked at the screen, there was a selfie from Sousuke, a look on his face that made Makoto want to just run over to his place and kiss him breathless. He loved this man with everything in him. More and more every day, until he wondered if he’d ever find the limit of how much he could love a single person, but he didn’t mind. He rubbed his finger gently over his screen, over Sousuke’s photo, and smiled wide.

Half an hour later, Makoto pulled himself out of bed and did some mindless chores with Seijuro to calm his impatience. Seijuro had his own big date tonight, and he was just as jittery as Makoto, if not more. They quietly acknowledged each other’s anxieties. Makoto showered when there was nothing else to do and then he spent an hour staring into his closet, mind wandering as his fingers raked over too many options. 

This was his first Christmas ever with Sousuke, and he was very, very excited. He almost lifted his phone, a knee-jerk reaction to text his mom. There was a pause, and he waited for the painful heartache, but instead it just came as a wave of sad dullness. He turned his head up to the ceiling, shut his eyes and smiled. He had to imagine his mom and dad were proud of him. They’d always loved Sousuke, and they’d be happy to see what a gentleman he’d become. Makoto pressed his hand to his heart, wishing he could have at least told his mom he was gay, but somehow, he thought she’d probably always known. After all, she’d always known him the best. He missed her something terrible, but he was happy, and he knew he was allowed to be. She’d want nothing else.

He picked out a pair of grey slacks and a navy button up with a slim pink and silver tie. Over that went his worn black leather jacket and then his winter coat, a shame he had to cover up. He slipped on his ankle boots and ruffled his hair, gelled into a messy submission. He hoped Sousuke would think he looked good; he’d probably see it instantly in his eyes. With a proud smile, he wondered how the other man truly saw him.

“I’m off,” he whispered to Seijuro, dressed equally spiffy in a stylish suit, looking awkward as hell but very handsome. Makoto stepped over and pressed a kiss to the man’s cheek. “Thank you for everything,” he said with a big smile.

Seijuro sighed, but he studied Makoto’s face as he grabbed at his arms, holding him. “You’ve been a lot happier lately.”

“Yeah,” the brunet grinned and nodded. “You too.”

Seijuro face broke into a big smile. “Yeah,” he admitted as well.

“Have fun with Gou,” whispered Makoto. He waved as he turned, waltzing off with barely contained excitement in his bones. Sousuke had already texted to say he was coming up the stairs. Makoto ran out to meet him halfway. In the quiet of the stairwell, he leapt into Sousuke’s arms and kissed him slowly. Arms wrapped around him instantly, and Sousuke tilted his head to return the kiss.

“Hello, Mako,” Sousuke greeted in a husky voice, and Makoto slipped back to the ground with a soft, shy, “Hello, Sou.” The nicknames they’d given each other back in high school had stuck even now, a sign of endearment and their adoration in the most simple way.

A hand slipped into his and Sousuke led him downstairs, out into the street where the snow still fell. The crunch underneath their feet added to the quiet atmosphere, and Makoto pressed to Sousuke’s side as he looked up at the man. He looked handsome, of course; he always did. His hair was combed back tonight and he wore a pea coat and scarf, chinos a little too tight on his thick thighs but Makoto wasn’t about to complain about that. He tugged at the strap of his cross-body bag and nuzzled to his boyfriend’s shoulder. Sousuke tucked their hands into the pocket of his coat as they walked, the air outside frigid, but Makoto was warm with Sousuke by his side.

“You look so handsome,” Sousuke leaned over the table to whisper, his voice so sexy and husky that Makoto shivered at the sound of it. He laid his winter jacket on the chair beside him and smiled shyly at Sousuke as the man took off his own coat. It was illegal how good Sousuke looked in his grey, cable knit sweater. Makoto’s hand felt empty and cold for a moment, but soon it was filled again with Sousuke’s, and there was alcohol on the table, and Makoto was warming up, loosening up. Sousuke tilted his head and rested it on the raised hand that held his glass, and he smiled as he watched Makoto with a look in his eyes that was filled with pride and adoration. He loved most of all to watch Makoto eat; the man had rediscovered his appetite and love of all food, and Sousuke couldn’t be happier to see Makoto eat with a smile on his face.

When Makoto thought he might burst, Sousuke picked up the other’s jacket and slipped it over Makoto’s shoulders, arms pushing into his own sleeves as Makoto stood. Outside the restaurant, hands found each other again, two bodies drawing close like it was only natural. No one paid them any mind tonight. Even so, there was no hesitation for Sousuke anymore when it came to these public displays of affection; now he was proud to have Makoto on his arm, proud to show off that they belonged to each other. It made Makoto proud in his own, very special sort of way. “Do you want dessert?” Sousuke asked, looking around, but Makoto’s eyes were stuck on the man.

“Yes...” he hummed low.

“Where should we go-“ began Sousuke, but he stopped when he looked over at Makoto, going quiet. Slowly, he nodded and smiled in understanding. “Is my place okay?” he asked in a deeper voice, cheeks going a soft pink as excitement rattled up the air around them.

“Of course, silly,” whispered Makoto as he nuzzled his face into Sousuke’s shoulder. He didn’t know how else he could say it; he wanted Sousuke. He could barely wait now.

The walk back to Sousuke’s place was quiet, but Sousuke would incrementally walk a little faster the closer they got. At one point, Makoto laughed in delight and Sousuke turned on him with big eyes. The apology Makoto had meant to giggle out was whisked away when Sousuke grabbed his hand and pulled him onto a little side street, out of the street lights.

“Makoto,” he husked in the deepest voice, and Makoto shivered in response, his smile falling away as he was reminded of his own desire in the face of Sousuke’s. Big hands scooped his head up and Makoto leaned up into the kiss. It was thrilling, to kiss this man publicly like this. To be able to tell anyone looking, _hey, this is mine_. Sousuke probably felt the exact same way. 

Lips moved together and tongues curled out around each other, desperate to be connected and taste the other. Sousuke always tasted fresh, like he’d just sucked on a mint, and it made Makoto’s mouth water and want more. He was getting better at kissing, too; at least, he was definitely getting better at kissing Makoto. He was starting to learn what made Makoto go weak in the knees, like when he suckled on Makoto’s tongue, or nibbled at his bottom lip. He knew that massaging Makoto’s hips while they kissed made his knees knock together, and he knew that Makoto liked having his ass groped, too. Slowly, slowly, they were learning about each other, the new things, the things they’d never learned before. Slowly, Sousuke was figuring out how to undo Makoto completely.

And in return, Makoto was learning about him. It made his heart race to know only he knew these little things. It was things like the fact that Sousuke liked it when Makoto made little sounds as they kissed, when he clung to Sousuke or kissed him back hungrily. He liked to lick Makoto’s teeth, inside his cheeks, and along his tongue. He liked to suckle on his bottom lip. But most of all, he seemed to really like Makoto’s ass, and Makoto was very okay with that.

When they started grinding together on the little side street, Makoto had to pull away and beg for Sousuke to take him home again. “Once more,” mumbled Sousuke as he dove in for another kiss, like he couldn’t bear to part, like he wanted so much more. So did Makoto, but he didn’t want to have sex in this alley, so they’d better be running back to Sousuke’s soon, or Makoto might actually start considering it.

“Come on,” husked Sousuke as he pulled back breathlessly, grabbing Makoto’s hand and turning the corner, full speed ahead. Makoto hadn’t run in so long; it was exhilarating, and Sousuke’s hand was so warm in his own. The wind bit at their cheeks, but all Makoto and Sousuke were thinking about was getting home.

The taller man opened his door in one smooth move, and he rushed Makoto inside ahead of him, cornering him against the wall in the genkan as he shut the front door with his foot. Lips crashed into Makoto’s hungrily, the kiss sloppy with how frozen their lips were, but Makoto grabbed at Sousuke’s jacket lapels and pulled them closer to each other, eagerly returning the kiss. Heat flared up in his body; he was ready.

Sousuke worked blindly to pull his shoes off with his feet, tangling his legs to help Makoto out of his. It was harder with the boots, and Sousuke scooped Makoto up in a huff, chin angling up to pursue the kiss as he used his free hand to unzip and throw them to the ground. Makoto gripped the sides of Sousuke’s face and tilted his head deeper into the kiss; Sousuke’s tongue was delightfully warm and soft, and Makoto wanted to make this kiss last forever. His heart raced in his chest and he was so, so horny.

Sousuke grunted and walked Makoto into his quiet apartment, the lights off until he got to his bedroom door, where Makoto paused and pulled back for a moment.

“Sou~” he growled, so fired up that he barely felt like himself. His whole body ached for Sousuke to embrace him. His passion was so new that Makoto didn’t know what to do with it. He blushed and tried again for something softer, more like himself. “Sou~, baby...”

Sousuke was breathing hard, his eyes roaming all over Makoto’s face and body. “What is it, baby doll?”

“I got you... something.”

“Is it your body?” Sousuke’s eyes flickered like the flames in a fireplace, hot, hot blue. Makoto slowly pushed himself out of Sousuke’s arms and to the ground.

“Please wait on your bed.” He turned Sousuke gently and nudged him to the mattress sitting behind them, and while Sousuke seemed reluctant to let Makoto go, Makoto was able to wiggle and kiss his way out of his grip. He scurried out of the bedroom, trying to locate the bathroom in the dark. When he found it, he slipped inside, lights on, and shut the door. His heart was pounding; the small space smelled like Sousuke fresh out of the shower, and it made Makoto want to tear his clothes off. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, undressing himself as fast as he could. He didn’t care about wrinkles as he tossed everything to the floor. He pulled his undies off and his cock sprang free, untamable, leaking already. From his bag, he pulled a roll of thick, satin ribbon, and he stepped in front of the mirror to examine himself.

“This is it,” he whispered to his reflection. He’d dreamed this up a week ago and it had consumed him with excitement, but now that he was actually doing it, his hands shook and he felt too nervous to move. Slowly, he willed his limbs to cooperate, as he wrapped his body up like a present, the silky ribbon around his neck and down over his chest, down around his back, and then back around to cover his aching cock. He finished the whole ensemble with a big bow over his ass, and now there was no backing out because his clothes were a crumpled mess and his undies had a spot of pre-cum wetting the front. He looked himself over in the mirror, not sure if he even looked like a good present. He clenched his hands together and quietly opened the door, light shutting off behind him. He moved on bare feet towards the lighted doorway.

“Close your eyes,” he called to Sousuke, pausing just before he was revealed. 

The other man grunted inside, but complied with a mumbled, “Okay, but hurry.”

Makoto stepped into the doorway, breath caught by Sousuke like he hadn’t seen him exactly like that a few minutes ago. He sat back, hands into the comforter on the bed, eyes shut, head rolled back impatiently. His feelings were so clear to see in his tapping foot and clenched fingers. And pressed against his pants, just like Makoto, was the excitement he felt, a raging boner wanting to break free. 

Makoto shuffled on his feet, nerves overtaking him again. He’d meant to say Sousuke could open his eyes, but the sound of his feet on the floor made Sousuke’s head snap back down and eyes open wide without being prompted to, and his gaze caught Makoto, gripped him. Suddenly, his nerves were melting away, and he dropped his hands to his hips, slowly showing himself off. He licked at his lips, so hungry.

“Merry Christmas,” he husked, but Sousuke sat frozen, unsure if this was even reality. “I’m your present,” Makoto murmured. Aqua eyes looked him over, and for a moment Makoto’s confidence faltered at Sousuke’s silence. But then those eyes were back, and Sousuke looked like a wild animal who wanted to _devour him_. The growl started in his throat and moved up past parted lips, teeth bared. Sousuke looked wild for Makoto, hungry. He rushed up, a curse slipping from his lips. In an instant, he was in front of Makoto, hands on his skin, hot.

“Fuck, Makoto,” Sousuke growled. If this wasn’t the man he loved, Makoto would be terrified, but instead, Sousuke’s wild nature was stoking his own fire. Oh, he wanted Sousuke; he wanted Sousuke so badly. Hands roamed over his body and Makoto decided that this was taking way too long. His chin snapped up and he growled back at Sousuke, a cute little thing compared to Sousuke’s sexy sounds. He grabbed at Sousuke’s clothes, pulling at them.

“Take this off,” he ordered, heat making his hands tremble. Sousuke obeyed, eyes and ears taking in everything about Makoto, about how he sounded and felt. When Makoto tried to undo the button of his pants, Sousuke had to knock his hands aside and do it himself.

“Just touch me,” he husked to Makoto as he shucked his pants off. Makoto’s hands flew to his bare chest and he let out a sexy little whine, fire getting hotter. The minute Sousuke’s pants were off, Makoto pushed him back to the bed with all of his might. He swooped down and yanked Sousuke’s underwear off, and fuck, had he always been this big? He was so hard, cock twitching with excitement, and Sousuke watched with wide eyes as Makoto clambered on top of him, nothing but sexy fabric covering the best bits.

“I got this,” Makoto husked as he grabbed his ass cheeks and parted them, as he ground his entrance against the tip of Sousuke’s cock. He didn’t have time to wait; he wanted Sousuke so badly. The prep he’d done earlier ensured that he could do this. Just a little bit of saliva...

Makoto reached two fingers up and licked them wet, drooling on them as Sousuke watched, cock throbbing against Makoto’s ass. Makoto slicked up his boyfriend’s cock and then his own ass, and now there was nothing stopping him. Sousuke was so warm against Makoto, and it made him want to cry; tonight, this man would truly become his, and his alone. The moment his ass kissed Sousuke’s head, big, strong hands flew to his hips and Sousuke gasped. He’d figured out what Makoto meant to do, and his brain was malfunctioning from how fucking sexy it was. Makoto gave a choked little moan, but he had no plans of stopping. He pushed his hips down, down. Sousuke’s hot, thick cock slowly spread him open, and he slowly sank down onto his most desired treasure.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” whined Makoto as he had to take a moment to pause, as his insides trembled. Sousuke looked close to ecstasy already, his nails digging into Makoto’s skin.

“Fuck, Mako-“ Sousuke gruffed out.

“I know, I know,” hushed the brunet, hips slipping down again. He pressed on until all of Sousuke was inside his tight little ass, until Sousuke looked like he might have a heart attack from how divine it felt. Makoto let out the happiest little sigh when Sousuke bottomed out, and that was all it took. Sousuke’s eyes snapped open wide and he fiercely growled Makoto’s name, but Makoto had other plans. He pushed Sousuke back onto the bed and leaned over him, back arched and ass squeezing to tease now.

“I said... I got this, Sou.” Makoto’s green eyes were dark with lust. He rolled his hips, the first thrust, and Sousuke went limp against the bed, hands slipping to Makoto’s thighs, feeling them flex as he began to sway, as he began to fuck himself on Sousuke. He slowly tipped his head back, rolls of pleasure coursing up his skin, letting out a wanton moan as he found his good spot. Sousuke’s cock pressed against it and Makoto lost his mind. He snapped his hips, moving furiously, needing to be fucked. Sousuke’s cock was hot and thick inside him, twitching, filling him. Makoto gave another broken, little cry.

“Makoto, Makoto, Makoto...” Sousuke was calling the other’s name, but he barely heard him. His big hands crept up bare skin, over Makoto’s ass. He was watching everything now, the way Makoto moved, the way his body shivered and flushed. He hadn’t gotten to say it, but Makoto looked so damn sexy that it had left Sousuke speechless. Makoto had been hard too, the satin of the ribbon showing very clearly the outline of his erection; now the ribbon had shifted down enough to let Makoto’s wet head peek out. Sousuke was enraptured. He wondered why he’d been so blind before to Makoto’s oozing sexiness. 

He’d been so stubborn in thinking he didn’t want Makoto like that. Even when he’d gotten hard for Makoto back then, he’d written it off as teenage hormones. Well, in his own way, he’d been excited to fuck Makoto back then, but it hadn’t been about Makoto, not really. Anyone might have been okay. But now, now Makoto was all that would do. Now Makoto was the only one who could make him yearn for it this much. He couldn’t even put into words how much he’d wanted to feel this, to feel his cock inside Makoto’s ass, and not just that, but even simply touching, being close. So much had changed since Sousuke had realized that Makoto was the only one who mattered. He licked his lips as he stared up at this goddess dancing on his cock. Makoto was pleasuring himself, fucking himself on Sousuke’s shaft, and what greater pleasure was there than that? Sousuke smirked. Well, he could think of one that was better. He grabbed Makoto’s waist and gruffed out his name, catching his attention this time. Green eyes caught on his, hazy, and Sousuke slowly licked his lips again.

“My sweet, little kitten~ Did you really think... I’d just let you have all the fun?”

Confusion crossed Makoto’s face, but it was gone in a second when Sousuke flipped him to his back in one smooth motion. Their chests pressed together and Sousuke kissed Makoto recklessly, loving the way Makoto squeezed around him, the way his cock jerked in excitement between their abs. Oh, Makoto would love this next bit. Sousuke reached behind his ass to untie the bow as he tore the ribbon away, his heated gaze taking in all of Makoto in his naked glory. He sat up and pressed a thumb to his lip, wiping a bit of Makoto’s spit away. Slowly, he licked it as Makoto watched, as the man recognized that Sousuke was in heat now.

“Sou~” he whimpered, hands reaching up. Sousuke grabbed them and pressed them to his pelvis, right above where he was connected with Makoto in the most intimate way.

“This, Makoto,” he husked in a deep voice, Makoto shivering as his lashes fluttered. He was so damn sexy, so adorable that it tore Sousuke apart. Every breath, every inch of his skin, Sousuke wanted to claim it all, to make it his. He couldn’t stand a single piece of Makoto’s being escaping him. If anyone else ever tried to touch this man... Sousuke slowly rolled his hips, pulling out and pushing back in. Makoto’s hands shook against his skin. “This is where we’re connected. This cock is the only one that you’ll ever need to fill you here. Don’t you think?”

“Yesssss,” slurred Makoto, “you’re the only one.” His eyes were lit up so beautifully, staring up at Sousuke like this was the first moment of the rest of his life, and Sousuke was at the center of his future.

Sousuke shivered in delight. He licked his lips again; he was drooling. “Makoto~” he crooned, waiting until Makoto’s glazed eyes focused on him, hips moving in and out slowly. “Baby, tell me whose cock you want in this cute, little ass. Tell me who you want filling you up?”

“Youuu... Sousuke~” Makoto let out a drawn-out moan, Sousuke grabbing his hips and thrusting back into him hard with a pleased sigh. Makoto howled, back arching.

“Darling~” Sousuke crooned. “Sweetie pie. My Makoto...”

“Please, Sou~” Makoto begged as his hands slipped up to Sousuke’s chest. His eyes were wet and god, he looked so delectable. “Please fuck me now.”

How could Sousuke possibly deny that? He pulled out and turned Makoto to his knees, thighs pressed against his own as he pressed Makoto’s hands to the wall above his bed. He found Makoto’s sweet little entrance again and slid himself inside that warm sleeve, his hands covering over his precious treasure’s. Skin slid together and Sousuke thought that this had to be paradise. He gripped one of Makoto’s hands, the other moving to his hip, and with one last whisper for Makoto to call his name, he started fucking into Makoto like he’d always wanted to, like finally Makoto was all his.

A soft head of brunet hair slipped back and pressed into Sousuke’s shoulder, the man’s hand slipping up to lightly grip Makoto’s long neck as he thrust into him over and over. Makoto was so sweet; he sounded so sweet as he cried and sobbed Sousuke’s name in broken ways, as he begged for more. Sousuke suckled on his neck and shoulder, marking up his skin so there would be no doubt who Makoto belonged to, that Sousuke had made him all his own. Every little cry and clench of Makoto’s ass around him made Sousuke see stars; he was barely holding on, but he would not let himself give in until Makoto was completely satisfied.

Makoto reached an arm back and gripped at Sousuke’s hair, panting heavy now. His cock was shaking beneath them, nearly bursting. “I’m gonna... cum, Sou,” he panted, hands slipping down the wall. Sousuke pulled his hips tighter against his own and fucked him more recklessly.

 _Ah, shit... that was the spot_ , Makoto thought loosely as his mind went blank with the pleasure he was receiving.

“Go ahead, baby, cum for me.”

Sousuke’s hand slipped off the wall, and the moment his skin touched Makoto’s sensitive cock, his knees buckled as he cried out, cum flying as he orgasmed like he never had before. He sank to the bed as it came in waves, washing over him as Sousuke grunted, fucking him through the way his ass tightened like a vice. “Fuck, Makoto,” he grunted as he had to clench his teeth to hold on, as Makoto trembled weakly against the bed. Sousuke grabbed his cock and milked the man. _More, more, cum for me more, Makoto._

Makoto choked out a cry when he realized Sousuke wasn’t stopping. He was coming down off his high, but Sousuke’s cock was still pounding into him. “I can’t! Sousuke-!” he choked, but Sousuke just grunted.

“Makoto, it’s not enough. It’s not enough, baby doll.”

Makoto shivered, overstimulation forcing him back to life, but with it was the rush of something else. It was the warmth of being desired like this, of how hard Sousuke was working because he _wanted_ him. This wasn’t only about Sousuke. This was about Makoto, too. This wasn’t sex. This was making love.

Sousuke and Makoto were making love, to each other. Makoto shivered into the pillow and slowly pushed his ass back into Sousuke. The man shot up, recognizing the change. He huffed out a heated breath, staring at Makoto’s ass as it slowly rocked to meet his thrusts. “Oh, fuck, baby doll. Don’t tell me you don’t want it when you’re stirring me up like this.” He pulled Makoto’s cheeks apart and watched the way Makoto’s tight ass devoured his cock.

“-want it,” croaked Makoto, throat dry. He swallowed as Sousuke hummed, as he fondled Makoto’s ass cheeks and massaged them, spreading them open and pushing them together, over and over like he was transfixed. He could see everything. He could see how hungrily Makoto ate him up, how his hips trembled. With a smirk, he rubbed over Makoto’s quaking hips.

“What was that, sweetheart?”

“I want it~” Makoto bemoaned into the pillow. He slowly reached back, the tips of his fingers reaching to touch Sousuke. He rubbed at the man’s thigh ever so lightly, all he could reach. That little touch stirred up Sousuke; it was all it took. He groaned as he fucked hard into Makoto, as Makoto cried out. His legs gave out and Sousuke sank down to the bed with him, grunting as his cock slipped in deeper, as his hips were smooshed into two plush ass cheeks.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking sexy,” Sousuke huffed, trying so hard to be gentle. Makoto couldn’t see the way he was gritting his teeth, how his toes curled into the sheets just to hold on. He wanted to cum, he wanted to, but this couldn’t be over yet, not yet. “Makoto~” he warbled out in a moment of weakness, as Makoto reached back and grabbed at his hip.

Muffled words reached his ears, barely. He leaned down as he rolled his hips, panting hard, a hand sliding up Makoto’s trim waist. Oh, his back was so pretty. He was so slim for a man, but he wasn’t skinny like he’d been before, scarily thin. No, he’d been working hard; his old figure was coming back. His back was toned and the dip in his waist was filling out again. Sousuke caressed his skin lovingly.

“Sousuke-“ came Makoto’s barely audible voice, face pressed into Sousuke’s pillow. Sousuke shivered as he realized how Makoto was clutching it with his free arm. He was inhaling deeply of Sousuke’s sleepy scent; he was grinding against the sheets. Sousuke leaned down.

“What is it, cutie pie?”

Makoto shivered and tried to lift his head, but he was weak, so weak from what Sousuke was doing to him. Still... “Sousuke, more,” he begged with a hiccup.

“More?”

“Ha-harder... please~”

Sousuke paused for a moment. He wasn’t sure he’d heard right. His sweet Makoto, so gentle and kind, wanted it... “Harder?”

“Yes,” choked out Makoto on a moan. “Faster, Sousuke-!”

“Oh my- fuck-“ whispered Sousuke as he went slack against Makoto’s back, weak from the words his lover was speaking. He had to take a minute, taking in the overwhelming moment. “Yeah,” he husked as he slowly pulled himself back up. He got his knees under him and pulled Makoto’s hips up. “Yeah.” He swallowed and grit his teeth, plunging in once, deep, hard. Makoto choked out the sexiest little moan and hiccup. Sousuke choked on his desire, blinding. He murmured huskily, “Yeah... anything for you, my love. Anything for my baby...”

Sousuke dipped his head back and trembled as he gathered his strength. With a whispered goodbye to his sanity, he looked back down and gripped Makoto’s hips, and with all he had in him, he started pounding into Makoto, pounding him into his mattress. He was breaking a sweat from the effort, but oh... Oh, this was... heaven.

Makoto clung to his pillow, hands stretched up to the wall as he tightened every muscle in his body to take it. Into the mattress he sobbed and cried out his need, his desire. Until Sousuke was the only shape he remembered, he wanted to be fucked into oblivion. He came again on the sheets, not even a moment’s pause this time as Sousuke lost himself in fucking Makoto silly. He leaned over the man, hand in his soft hair, pulling it as he begged, “Is this good, baby doll? Do you like this?”

“Yeah, yes,” whimpered Makoto brokenly. He shivered and pushed his hips back to meet Sousuke’s. “Yes!” he cried.

“Tell me you love it, baby.” Makoto’s words were making Sousuke’s hips move a little faster, blood rushing through his veins as he listened to his sweetheart moan for him. Whatever his opinions on dirty talk had been before, all he knew now was that he needed to hear Makoto say it aloud. He wanted to hear Makoto’s voice filling his ears, stirring him up.

Makoto moaned into Sousuke’s pillow, going tight again. “I love your big cock~” he crooned. “Mmmnn~! Sho ghood~ Sousuke...” The breathless tones of Makoto calling his name was almost too much.

Sousuke was hanging on by a thread. Any minute would be his last. His heart swelled in his chest, pounding against his rib cage. All he could see was Makoto’s sexy body, hear his wonderful voice, and feel his soft hair and skin. He was so beyond enamored, so in love with this precious man. “Fuck, Makoto...” he husked, hands caressing over plush hips and soft ass cheeks. “My baby, my whole life... You feel so fantastic...” Sousuke choked on his own moan, a small sound though it was, but it was enough to make Makoto arch back into him and cum once again.

“Nothing... came...” he whispered brokenly as he tried to get his knees under him again, to push up against Sousuke. His body still shook, but he had to check; that orgasm hadn’t been like the ones before. Sousuke sat up and pulled Makoto’s back against his chest, hands feeling at Makoto’s cock. He was a little softer, more squishy, but still erect, and he shivered out a moan when Sousuke touched him, rubbed him.

“Dry... orgasm?” Sousuke vaguely remembered having read about this.

“Yeah, I think...” whispered Makoto, sinking against Sousuke weakly. Oh, he was so sweet and warm. Sousuke slowed his hips and pressed his nose to Makoto’s hair.

“Sousuke...” whispered Makoto, turning his head. Sousuke looked up, meeting Makoto’s gorgeous eyes that begged for his love. This look now was different than it had been all those years ago, less desperate, like Makoto was more sure now. Like he was grounded in the fact that Sousuke _would_ love him. He wasn’t begging this time; he was sweetly asking. It made Sousuke so proud, for himself and for his beloved. He kissed Makoto’s plush, sweet lips. They were a little salty now, but Makoto’s kiss would always taste and feel the best. Sousuke gripped his chin and deepened it, taking a moment to rest his hips as Makoto sat on his lap.

Though he was breathing hard, he felt he had so much to say. Feelings overflowed, heart wonderfully, achingly full. “Makoto, baby, I love you. ...I love you so much. I’m so sorry... it took me so damn long...”

Makoto reached back, shushing Sousuke with bright green eyes and a soft smile that made the taller man weak in his knees. “It’s okay. It’s okay now. Just tell me... tell me you love me over and over. Tell me all the time...”

“I will, I swear. Just... stay with me forever. Just be mine.”

“I promise. I love you so much, Sou.”

Sousuke sighed and pulled Makoto to him, kissing him again. He shifted on the bed, turning as he held Makoto. He sank against the wall behind his mattress, tired but so in love, still so hard. He still hadn’t cum.

“Makoto, let me make love to you.” Makoto shifted in his lap, turning to look at Sousuke’s face.

“Okay,” he whispered with a shy but happy smile. “Just hold on, honey.”

Sousuke smiled at the endearment, kissed Makoto’s cheek. The man slipped off him, turning to face Sousuke. With tired but hungry eyes, Sousuke looked at his man. He was glowing, cheeks lightly flushed. He looked beautiful, as he always did, but in the soft glow of his own room, Makoto was breathtaking. He climbed back into Sousuke’s lap, big hands coming up to grab hold of his ass as he maneuvered himself.

“You gonna ride me again?” Sousuke asked with a slow smile.

Makoto dipped his head down, lips to Sousuke’s ear. His voice was so low and sexy as he responded, “I’m gonna make you cum.”

Makoto pressed his hand to the wall behind Sousuke’s head and sat up a little, other hand going back to grip Sousuke’s cock gently. With an ease that scared Sousuke for how practiced it was, Makoto guided his cock back inside his ass, sinking down with a pleased little sigh that made Sousuke’s heart pitter-patter. He hugged Makoto and buried his face against his chest.

“I hate that you know so well what to do. That you’ve practiced with someone besides me.” 

Makoto hugged Sousuke’s head back and kissed his hair. “I’m sorry, Sou.”

Weakly, Sousuke’s hands slipped down, as he pulled back to look at Makoto. “I hate that others have seen this view, seen you like this, glowing. I hate that I wasn’t here...”

A thumb stroked over Sousuke’s cheeks, Makoto silent, unsure of what he could say. He regretted a lot of things, but back then it had felt so hopeless for him and Sousuke. Back then, he wasn’t even sure he’d ever see the man again, let alone... this. It hurt to think of the past, or the time without Sousuke. “I love you,” he reminded Sousuke. “I always have and I always will. You’re the only one that matters. Just you.”

“Yeah,” husked Sousuke, hands roaming Makoto’s soft back. “It’s the same for me. It’ll always be the same.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Makoto as he pressed their foreheads together, eyes going a little wet.

Sousuke’s hand slipped up into his hair as he begged, “Don’t say that. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I adore you, Makoto. Your heart and your soul and everything about you. You are the most beautiful person in the whole world...”

Makoto sniffled, shutting his eyes. His hands tightened on Sousuke’s face as the man’s thumb rubbed over his big scar.

“I want to kill him for hurting you, Makoto,” he hissed quietly, face shifting to deep regret and anger.

“Don’t talk about him,” Makoto begged. “Not now, when I finally have you.”

Sousuke nodded, face shifting to sorrow. Makoto rubbed his cheeks a little harder. “Smile for me?” he asked desperately. “Tell me again-“

“I love you,” rushed Sousuke as he grabbed around Makoto’s waist, as he pressed their chests and lips together. He hadn’t meant to make this so sad and depressing. Makoto was right; not when Makoto was finally his... “Tachibana Makoto, I love you eternally.”

Makoto shivered, ass trembling around Sousuke. Sousuke slipped a hand down between those cheeks he loved so much, fingers spreading to feel where they were connected. Makoto quaked against him, trembling. This was what mattered, he thought. This connection.

“I love you so much. You’re my whole heart.”

Makoto looked down with wet eyes and nodded, speechless, and Sousuke smiled sweetly at the love of his life. This man was everything, everything to Sousuke. Makoto was his whole world. His whole universe. The air he needed. Makoto was... _everything_.

Makoto began to move, and Sousuke leaned back, to look, to see it all. Makoto knew just how to move. His thighs flexed, his abs tightened, and oh, he was gorgeous. Sousuke’s hands wanted to touch everything, to feel Makoto’s skin everywhere. He leaned up once in a while to kiss Makoto’s chin or scar, and Makoto would dip down every so often to kiss Sousuke’s lips. This was his happiness. This was the life he wanted.

He let himself go and feel it all. He didn’t need to hold back anymore, as Makoto rode him back up to the crest of release. He gripped Makoto’s cute little waist and looked into his eyes when he was close.

“Can I?” he asked like they hadn’t already been fucking this whole time with no condom on.

Makoto laughed, unable to help himself. “Of course, silly!” he giggled. Sousuke couldn’t stand how adorable this man was. He was so precious. He reached up and pulled Makoto back into a deep kiss, a kiss to say all the words he couldn’t, his devotion, his undying love. Inside the body of the only man he loved, he came with a tiny sigh of deep satisfaction, of knowing he’d done their first time well. Their time as teenagers didn’t count; Sousuke had been too stupid and inexperienced back then. He’d had to make it up to Makoto, and he thought maybe he had. Makoto shivered as Sousuke’s release filled him, as he was stuffed full of Sousuke’s love and desire. He rubbed at his tummy, wondering how great it would be if they could always stay like this.

“I love you so much, Yamazaki Sousuke.”

Sousuke shivered and kissed his man. “Yeah,” he husked, and when they pulled back, Makoto was shocked to see that Sousuke was crying.

“Hey-!” he choked out, panicked, but Sousuke just shut his eyes and laughed.

“Damn it, Makoto. You’re too sweet to me.” He wiped at his face and looked up at the brunet. Makoto had his hands over his mouth, gorgeous green eyes wide on Sousuke’s face.

“You’re so unfair,” he whispered as he slowly shifted off Sousuke’s spent cock, sitting back on the bed between Sousuke’s legs. He seemed so far away. Sousuke opened his arms and waved Makoto to his chest. Warm skin pressed against his own and he sighed happily.

“I’m so happy,” he husked into soft, brown locks. 

“Yeah,” smiled Makoto.

Silence settled around them, but Sousuke wasn’t ready to go to bed yet, for this moment to be over with his beloved. “Can I touch and kiss you some more in the shower?”

Makoto sat up and giggled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Sousuke laughed too as they moved off the bed, surprising Makoto by scooping him up bridal style. Makoto yelped and grabbed around his neck, eyes wide, but Sousuke just kissed his cheek. He loved this man so much, with every fiber of his being, and every moment the feeling grew. He was gorgeous, truly, much more than Sousuke deserved, though Makoto thought the same about the other.

Sousuke set Makoto down on the closed toilet seat and moved to turn on and heat up the shower. Makoto watched him quietly, marveling at Sousuke’s body.

“Hey,” he whispered, and Sousuke turned around to look at Makoto, who smiled like he’d just discovered the best treasure. “You’re really beautiful, you know.”

Sousuke slowly stood up and faced Makoto, unsure of what to think of that comment, face bewildered. Makoto took the chance to look him all over. He was tall and broad, and his muscles fit well on his body. He had long legs and arms, and his nipples were pretty for a man, a soft brown color. And of course, the prize between his legs; even as he lay flaccid now, his cock was still a sight to behold, and Makoto found himself staring at it and giggling shyly. A blush rose on his face as he looked back up at Sousuke, who was still confused.

“Yeah,” nodded Makoto, “You’re gorgeous.”

“What the heck, Makoto,” spat Sousuke in surprise, but there was no venom behind it. Instead he laughed and sank to the floor in front of Makoto, scooping up his face and kissing him eagerly. “You’re the one who’s perfectly beautiful,” he husked against warm, soft lips. “I love everything about you.”

Makoto felt heat rise again, and he wrapped his arms around Sousuke’s neck, humming softly as his cheeks flushed soft pink. Sousuke picked him up wordlessly and carried him to the shower, pressing him against the wall inside and kissing him again, exploring Makoto’s mouth with his tongue and lips.

“You’re perfect to me, baby,” Sousuke husked between kisses, his hands groping at Makoto. The brunet felt safe in his arms, and the water pouring against Sousuke’s back was steaming up the small space. He clung to Sousuke and kissed him like there was nothing he’d rather spend his time doing. “Makoto~” Sousuke groaned, grinding against the other with shaking hips, and Makoto pulled back to laugh.

“Don’t laugh,” Sousuke pouted as he let the other down. “Even after all that, you can still make this guy excited.” He rubbed a hand in annoyance over his half-masted cock, frowning down at it like it was a disobedient child. Makoto kissed the corner of his lip sweetly, making Sousuke look up again with big eyes. He loved that he could still make Sousuke so surprised; he hoped that neither of them ever took for granted the little things that they did to show their love. He combed Sousuke hair back and kissed him again.

“Come here, you,” growled Sousuke, and he pulled Makoto to him, grabbing a bottle of body wash. “I hope you don’t mind smelling like me for a bit.”

Makoto thrilled, going a little red in the cheeks. “Why would I mind that?” he asked blankly, and Sousuke just blinked at him. “I love the way you smell...” He couldn’t say that the lingering smell of body wash alone had made him hard earlier. It was too embarrassing, but it spoke to how sensitive he was to everything that had to do with Sousuke. He kissed him again, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Sousuke gave a little hum, turning his face away to hide the crooked smile and slight blush. After all this time, that was the thing that made him blush. Makoto giggled, a smirk tugging at his lips. He wondered how Sousuke could be so sexy and adorable at the same time. He kissed Sousuke again.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna take you again in this shower,” Sousuke warned, and Makoto gave him a wicked, little grin. He kissed Sousuke’s cheek, smirking. Sousuke swooped back and kissed his lips. He opened his mouth, and Makoto thought he’d growl or curse at the other, but instead he just sighed and whispered, “You’re too wonderful to me, Makoto.”

Hands combed into black hair as Makoto raised his arms and he shook his head. “No, it’s simply a little piece of the amount of love you deserve.”

“See...?” huffed Sousuke, but he let it go, opting for a slow kiss instead. He lathered up Makoto’s body and began to diligently wash him, between his fingers and under his arms, behind his ears and around his neck. Makoto shut his eyes and let the sensation of Sousuke’s sudsy hands all over him lull him. Once in a while, he gave a soft, appreciative hum.

Sousuke washed and rinsed him, washed and rinsed. He sank to his knees and soaped up Makoto’s legs, rubbing at his thighs and marveling at them. Makoto’s cock was so close, and he examined it too. It was pretty, prettier than his own, which was just... large. But Makoto’s was pretty for a cock, soft white with a pale pink tip. His balls hung pretty and round, and Sousuke lathered those up too, taking his time with it. Makoto’s hands gripped into the top of his hair and his angelic gasp echoed around them in the small space. Sousuke looked up to find Makoto flushed to his chest, eyes shut and mouth open. He was so pretty. Sousuke kissed his head and smiled as it twitched at him.

One foot at a time, he lifted them and washed Makoto’s soles and between each toe, until he was done and all that was left for him was his prize at the end.

“Turn around,” he husked to Makoto. His hands slid up the back of Makoto’s calves and thighs and he gripped at the two ass cheeks he’d give his life for. He played with them for a moment, loving how they swelled out between his spread fingers, how his ass jiggled just a little. And finally, he spread those cheeks apart and looked at the pretty little asshole he’d just made love to, watched it wink lazily at him as Makoto shivered. A little bit of white leaked out already, and Sousuke smiled at it. He was breathing hard already, so excited. Between his thighs, his cock was trying to come back to life. He pressed his face between Makoto’s cheeks and inhaled deeply.

Yeah, he was gonna get hard again.

Makoto jolted around and stared in disbelief at Sousuke as he squeaked out a protest, trying to push Sousuke’s face away from him. “What are you doing?!”

Sousuke smiled and shut him up with a long lick over his ass; Makoto whined, falling forward against the shower wall, limp and weak.

“Sousuke... you don’t have to do this... It’s dirty...”

 _You’re not the least bit dirty_ , Sousuke thought as he kissed Makoto’s twitching entrance. Slowly, slowly, he licked the man open. He loved the sounds Makoto made as he slowly melted apart. His legs shook, but Sousuke had a hold of him so he wouldn’t fall. The man took his time, enjoying it thoroughly, making sure every inch was cleaned out. When he finally pulled back, nuzzling to Makoto’s ass and staring at the pink, cute little hole, hard between his thighs as he’d known he’d be, he smiled proudly. He slowly stood, kissing along Makoto’s back, rinsing his mouth before he turned Makoto around and hugged him, kissing his slack lips.

Makoto weakly raised his hands and fisted them against Sousuke’s hips. “You didn’t have to go that far...” he whispered, cheeks bright red.

Sousuke took one of Makoto’s hands in his own and brought it down to feel his erection. “I wanted to, baby doll,” he husked. “I told you I love every part of you.”

Makoto shivered and gave an adorable little mewl. “I can pay you back,” he whispered as he squeezed weakly at Sousuke’s cock, but he was so tired. Sousuke set him down on the low, tiled shelf in the corner and smiled.

“I’ll be done in a minute, and then we’ll go to bed, okay?”

Makoto watched with hazy eyes as Sousuke quickly washed himself, spraying cold water over his cock to settle himself down. Then he lifted Makoto again and carried him out, sitting with him on the toilet to dry his body off, wrapping his beloved in the fluffy confines of a towel before carrying him to the bedroom again.

“Let me find you something to wear,” he murmured as he set Makoto on the bed, shuffling off to rifle through a drawer of old sweats. He usually slept naked or in just his underwear, so it wasn’t like he had proper pajamas, but he found a worn shirt from high school and a pair of shorts that would work. He helped Makoto pull them on, smiling at the finished product as he moved to tug his own boxer briefs on. What was it about Makoto in his clothes that was so damn adorable? Back in the day, Makoto would have fit in his shorts, but now they hung a little loose on his frame. Seeing him in their high school colors again was too nostalgic, and he tucked Makoto under the covers, pulling the man against his body and snuggling to his neck. The hickies he’d left were already starting to show, and he smiled at them proudly.

“Do you think...” whispered Makoto, voice so sleepy and gorgeous, “that it’s okay for me to be this happy now?” His words warbled and he sounded close to tears again.

“What would make you think it wouldn’t be okay? You deserved to be happy like this all along, Mako.” Sousuke frowned and kissed his boyfriend’s hair.

“I just worry that I’m receiving too much happiness from you...”

Sousuke nuzzled to Makoto’s soft hair, inhaling his scent now mixed with Sousuke’s own. “Don’t you think I’m receiving the same amount from you? I’d say we’re even.”

Makoto’s hands fisted against Sousuke’s back and Sousuke felt his tears against his chest, even before Makoto spoke again and he could hear the emotion in his voice. “I hope I can always make you happy, Sou. Like this, and even more.”

“Hey...” whispered Sousuke, hugging Makoto tighter. “Of course you will. Just like I know I’ll always do everything to make sure you’re happy too.

“Just you being with me is enough, Makoto. You’re the one that makes me happy, so just stay by my side and be yourself.”

“You too,” whispered Makoto between broken, little sobs. Sousuke wasn’t very good when Makoto cried, so he just silently rubbed his back. Finally, he lifted Makoto’s face and kissed his tears away.

“Didn’t I tell you not to cry over silly things like this? You don’t have to ever worry about me like that. Just you is all I need; so as long as you stay by my side, I’ll be over the moon for as long as I live.”

Makoto’s face was red and his lips trembled. Sousuke disliked this face Makoto made the most, and yet his heart still thumped in his chest at the sight of it. Makoto was beautiful, always so beautiful. Makoto, who deserved the world, thought he was barely worth this. Sousuke planned to give him a lifetime of overwhelming happiness, much, much more than this. “Prepare yourself,” he husked to Makoto. “You deserve the world and I want to give it to you.”

Makoto’s lips curled in, but they turned up a little at the corners, and he snuggled into Sousuke’s arms. “I love you so much,” he murmured quietly. “I’ve loved you for so long that this still feels a bit surreal. I never imagined....”

“And that was my fault,” frowned Sousuke, kissing Makoto’s closed eyelids. “It was my fault for making you think that I would never come to love you. I treated you terribly back then, but I swear I’ll make up for it.”

“You already have, Sou,” breathed Makoto with a smile, eyelids fluttering open. His green eyes were clear and glittering as he stared at Sousuke with all the love he felt. “I’m happy. So, so happy.”

“Then don’t ever wonder if you deserve this again. Because that’s not even a question. As long as you’re happy, as long as I can make you smile, please stay with me...”

Makoto nodded, leaning up to kiss Sousuke’s lips slowly. The other melted into the kiss, pulling Makoto closer to him with an arm around his waist, up his shirt. He spread his palm against Makoto’s warm back, savoring his man in every aspect.

Makoto was a dream. He was a blessing. He was everything Sousuke had ever wanted and everything he never knew he’d needed. Makoto was the light in his life and the life in his bones. Makoto was absolutely, completely everything to Sousuke.

“I love you, my darling.”

Makoto smiled and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, my Sousuke.”

Sousuke let out a rough sigh, lips tugging up into a wide smile. He couldn’t wait to wake up with Makoto in his arms, to kiss his face until he woke up, to make him breakfast and cuddle him all day long...

“Good night, Mako.”

“One more kiss,” murmured Makoto sleepily, snuggling closer to Sousuke. Sousuke smiled and kissed him indulgently, humming softly. Makoto gave his own little murmur, falling asleep even as he kissed Sousuke.

The dark haired male laid his head back on his pillow and watched as Makoto slipped into sleep. His face relaxed and his breathing grew slower. Sousuke could watch him forever, but the warmth of Makoto against him and his own sleepiness soon took over. He rolled his head to rest against Makoto’s as sleep claimed him as well.

That night, neither dreamed, because their reality was finally better than their dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot I had an extra, and even though it’s short, I decided to split it off from this chapter because it was already fairly long, so look forward to a little bit more fluff tomorrow 😘


	31. Extra

“Sou...” murmured Makoto as he snuggled to his boyfriend’s chest. They’d spent the whole day on Seijuro’s couch while he was at work, Peanut Butter laying lazily in their laps. The orange cat had warmed up instantly to Sousuke, and seemed to adore him almost as much as Makoto did.

“What’s up, butter cup?” murmured Sousuke, eyes on the TV as he mindlessly combed Makoto’s hair.

“I was thinking I’d like to start going to the gym to build up my strength again...”

Aqua eyes shifted from the TV down to his face, and Sousuke considered him for a very long time. “You’re not allowed to go by yourself,” he finally huffed. Makoto nodded. He hadn’t wanted to go alone anyways.

Still, Sousuke looked hesitant. “We can try it out...” Makoto frowned up at him, wondering why he seemed to have reservations against the idea. Sousuke hugged the man’s face to his chest and frowned up at the ceiling. Makoto had no idea at all...

x

The gym was crowded as Sousuke hustled Makoto inside. His eyes were darting all over the place, like he was waiting for someone to come up and attack one of them. Makoto watched him with mild concern, but Sousuke wasn’t looking at him as he wrapped an arm around his waist and shuffled him into the locker room.

Makoto found the locker they’d be sharing and opened it, pulling out a few things from his bag before stuffing it inside. When he turned back, he found Sousuke watching him with a very serious expression.

“Stay close to me, okay?” Sousuke said, lips pulled taut. Makoto gave him a puzzled frown, tilting his head.

“Yeah... okay...”

Sousuke stuffed his phone and keys into their locker and gave a short huff, waving for Makoto to follow him after he shut the locker door.

Sousuke was familiar with the gym; Makoto had never set foot in one before, unless the small home gym Sousuke had counted. Sousuke walked straight to the weight machines, sliding easily into the first available one, waving Makoto to the one beside him as he explained what they’d be doing.

“We’re doing 12 reps, 3 times. Take a rest between each set, but go as hard as you can during each set, okay? Check your weight,” he added, pointing to the weights with his foot. He stuffed his own pin lower to lift more weights than the last guy, while Makoto set his to 15 pounds. With a silent count down, Sousuke nodded off for them to start. It was exhilarating, Makoto thought. Sousuke made it look easy, sleeves sliding down to reveal his toned arms, while Makoto hid inside a long sleeve shirt. Most of the time he lost count of his reps as he got stuck staring at Sousuke.

They moved through the various machines until Sousuke walked Makoto over to the free weight section, his eyes roaming over the people around them. A few guys turned to look their way, but most returned to what they’d been doing before.

“Makoto, start with the two 5 pound weights.” Sousuke waved at the ones he meant as he pulled some heavier ones off the rack to load on a bar. Makoto stood by the rack and watched him, a little terrified if he was honest, of all the grunting and red faces around him. Sousuke’s back was turned, focused on what he was doing. He turned and took up his stance, hands clenching around the bar as he slowly breathed in and out, preparing himself. Makoto watched with wide eyes as Sousuke began to lift his heavy weights.

“You could lift more than 10, you know.”

Makoto’s head whipped around, his eyes going wide at the guy who’d appeared beside him. He had black hair and brown eyes, a sweatband around his forehead. He grinned at Makoto. “Don’t let another guy tell you how much to lift.”

“Ahh, well, it’s my first time...” said Makoto quietly, unsure of why this man was talking to him.

“Want me to spot you?” the guy asked, pointing to two guys, one of them laying on a bench and lifting, the other ready to catch the bar.

“Oh! I’m good,” said Makoto with a smile, turning back to point at Sousuke, but the man was already pulling weights off the rack and setting them down on the floor.

“I can show you how to do some free lifting too.”

This seemed a little more appealing as Makoto looked down at the dumbbells on the floor in front of the man’s feet, and he glanced back towards Sousuke to see what he should do. Well, what could it hurt? He walked over and nodded thankfully.

“I don’t know a lot; this is my first time at a gym.”

“Really? You look pretty fit though,” said the man as he studied Makoto’s body, reaching out to grab his arm, feeling his biceps.

Makoto turned red and pulled away, embarrassed. “No, really. I used to be in much better shape before.”

“Well, it’s never too late to get the body you want,” grinned the man, holding out his hand for Makoto. “Come on. I’ll teach you some good exercises.”

Makoto blindly took his hand and nodded in thanks, a big smile on his face. The man started explaining an exercise he used to build forearm strength, his hands freely touching Makoto’s body as he showed him how to stand and which muscles to target.

He shoved Makoto’s sleeve up, finger rubbing over Makoto’s forearm as he explained what each muscle did, his other hand holding Makoto’s wrist. Makoto was so caught up in the explanation that he didn’t think about the fact that this man was a stranger, and yet he was touching him so freely. To Makoto, it seemed like normal gym behavior. He didn’t even question it when the man came to stand behind him, hands on Makoto’s hips as he showed the brunet how to stand.

“You’re cute, you should come here more often,” the other man teased, and Makoto laughed it off, grinning into the mirror in front of them. Hands moved over his waist and chest as the man gave little pointers here and there, Makoto obliviously unaware of what was happening.

“Hey, there’s this great place down the road that has killer protein shakes. Wanna go grab some after our work out?”

Makoto almost laughed, but something told him it wasn’t a joke. His face flooded with confusion as he tried to suss out the man’s intentions. “Well, I’m here with-“

“What the fuck are you doing touching my boyfriend like that?!”

Makoto’s head swiveled around so fast he nearly got whiplash. Sousuke had abandoned his weights and was marching towards them, face red. His eyes were locked on the guy behind Makoto, but the brunet didn’t truly realize what was happening until a hand tightened around his waist.

“Bro, back up. You were underestimating this guy and I was just teaching him some good-“

Makoto never saw the swinging fist coming, but all of a sudden the guy behind him was sprawled on the floor. Everyone around them went silent as Sousuke crowded over the fallen man.

“First of all, you don’t know us, and you don’t know him, so don’t tell me I’m underestimating anything. Second of all, you don’t need to be putting your hands all over what is _mine_.”

“Bro, you left him-“

Another punch landed as Sousuke huffed, very angry now. Makoto didn’t even know what to do, uselessly standing off to the side, mouth gaping open. He couldn’t even process why Sousuke was so mad. He watched Sousuke’s arm pull back again, but he never got in his third punch. Two burly guys grabbed him by the arms and hauled him out of the gym. Makoto watched them go, mind lost in confusion. He glanced around in embarrassment, but everyone had pretty much moved on again. On heavy feet, Makoto shuffled to the locker room to collect his and Sousuke’s things.

“I’m sorry-“ Makoto decided to begin with as he meekly approached Sousuke, sitting on the sidewalk in front of the gym.

“You idiot!” barked Sousuke, very obviously still angry. Makoto scrubbed a hand at his temple, frustrated that he didn’t understand what had gone wrong.

“This was why I didn’t want to bring you to the gym, why I told you to stay with me! God, everywhere we go, everyone wants to hit on you or touch you! I can’t stand it!”

Makoto’s face went white as a sheet, as he stared at the top of Sousuke’s head. “What? No, he was just showing me some exercises-“

“That’s why you’re an idiot,” Sousuke said as he looked up at Makoto, lips pulled into a frown. “You always think the best of everyone, and you don’t even see the way everyone stares at you everywhere we go.”

Makoto snorted, unsure, and then let out a laugh. Sousuke was going crazy! He was about to start laughing when he noticed that Sousuke wasn’t even smiling. Makoto sobered up real quick. He watched Sousuke rise and approach him, pull a hand around Makoto’s waist.

“You doofus, I got banned from the gym because of that.”

“I’m sorry-“

Sousuke just shook his head and gave Makoto a smile. “I love the fact that you’re so oblivious when it comes to these things, because it’s part of what makes you so adorable, but damn, it’s frustrating when you don’t even see when people are flirting with you right in front of me.”

Makoto mulled over the past hour in his mind, and slowly he realized that maybe that guy hadn’t been exhibiting normal gym behavior. His face went white again and he stared up at Sousuke with big round eyes. “I’m so sorry-“

“Shut up, cutie,” Sousuke said with a proud smile as he dipped Makoto down and kissed him in front of the huge window looking into the gym. Makoto went bright red and clutched at Sousuke’s shirt, nearly dropping their stuff.

“I’m taking you home now,” Sousuke announced, taking the things out of Makoto’s arms and grabbing his hand with his free one. Makoto followed obediently behind, head lowered as he stared at Sousuke’s feet. He felt terrible the more he thought back on what had happened. He didn’t think everyone was trying to flirt with him like Sousuke claimed, but he could see how he should have felt suspicious of this man. He clung to Sousuke’s hand as regret and his own stupidity ate him up.

“Stop thinking like that,” whispered Sousuke as he nuzzled to Makoto’s cheek, blindly unlocking his front door. “It makes me proud that I have a boyfriend that other people lust after, but it also makes me want to fight everyone who looks at you for too long.”

“Don’t do that,” gasped Makoto as Sousuke whisked him inside and against the closed door. Lips found his and Makoto hummed to silence, eyes shutting as he gripped onto Sousuke’s shirt. When Sousuke pulled back, Makoto pouted, “What would anyone see in me when you’re usually right beside me?”

Sousuke tossed his head back and laughed. “You think I’m more attractive than you?” he asked with a loud giggle. He rolled his eyes and pressed his nose into the hairline at Makoto’s temple. “The fact that you think that is what makes you so damn adorable.”

Makoto blinked in confusion at the dark apartment behind Sousuke, unsure of how to take those words. He was still thinking about it when Sousuke began to kiss his neck and take off his clothes.

“I need a shower!” gasped Makoto.

“That’s where I’m taking you, baby,” Sousuke huffed as he started pulling his own clothes off. He lifted Makoto in his arms, a hand around each thigh and Makoto’s belly to his chest, as he waddled them to the bathroom.

“You’re hard!” yelped Makoto when he felt it against his ass cheeks, grabbing around Sousuke’s neck as he arched back.

“Of course I am,” huffed Sousuke as he pressed Makoto to the shower wall, sliding down his body to crouch before him, water pouring over his back and hitting Makoto’s tummy. “How could I not be when my boyfriend is this divine?”

“I’m not- ooah!” Makoto clamped a hand over his mouth and another into Sousuke’s hair, trying to pull it back, but Sousuke had him in hand and then in mouth. It was like a warm, wet cavern inside Sousuke’s mouth, his cheeks and tongue silky as they rubbed over Makoto’s flaccid cock. “What are you doing?!”

“Claimin’ wha’s mine,” Sousuke muffled around Makoto’s cock as it grew in his mouth, grinning wide. Makoto’s head snapped back as a tongue curled around his shaft and his vision went white with pleasure. It took him no time at all to finish down Sousuke’s throat. The taller man swallowed as he stood and grabbed Makoto up again to kiss him hungrily.

“I can’t get enough of you, Makoto.”

“That was dirty!” Makoto huffed, blindingly embarrassed, but when Sousuke kissed him again, he gave in and kissed back, eyes slipping shut as he leaned into his boyfriend.

“You don’t even know how hot you are... I don’t get it at all.” 

“But Sousuke, you-“

Sousuke smiled at Makoto, a smile so gorgeous that it made Makoto forget what he’d meant to say. He’d had a good argument brewing, but it was all gone now.

“God, I really love you. I don’t want anyone else to ever touch you again.” Sousuke leaned in against Makoto’s lips and growled possessively, “You’re all mine.”

Makoto pressed his hands wryly to Sousuke’s cheeks, face going red even as he husked back, “Okay.”

Sousuke didn’t let Makoto go for a second that night. As Makoto slept, he thought about all the ways he loved Makoto, all the ways Makoto drove him up a wall. It was a good kind of frustration, because it came with that smug feeling that he knew absolutely that Makoto didn’t have eyes for anyone else. He fell asleep sometime later and woke up to the sun peeking through the curtains in his room. Half asleep, he watched as the light lowly caressed Makoto’s milky arm, his face where he lay breathing against Sousuke’s chest, lips parted cutely. Sousuke let the light bathe them in warmth as he thought there was no one else he’d ever want to spend the rest of his life with. He slowly rolled out of bed, sitting on the edge.

“Where are you going?” mumbled Makoto sleepily, reaching for Sousuke’s back.

“Be right back,” Sousuke whispered as he turned back to kiss Makoto, rub at his cheek. Makoto’s eyes slowly blinked awake, watching his lover leave the room.

Green eyes watched Sousuke come back a few minutes later, grab at the edge of the bed and slip down to his knees. Sousuke reached out and pulled Makoto forward, pushing something into his boyfriend’s hands. Makoto stared at it in dazed confusion.

“I know what I want this time, Makoto, and it’s you. For the rest of my life, I want you. So please, please...” Sousuke looked up with big, aqua eyes, Makoto’s free hand clutched to his bare chest as he asked, “Makoto, will you marry me?”

Makoto stared at Sousuke and then down at the box in his hand. Back up to Sousuke, again to the box in his hand. “What is this...?” he asked in wild confusion, sleep still clinging to his slow brain.

Sousuke grabbed the box and popped it open with shaky hands, holding it up to Makoto for him to see. He shut his eyes and lowered his head as he asked again. “Please don’t say no!”

“Sousuke...?” Makoto was going cross eyed staring at the gorgeous silver ring in the burgundy velvet-lined box. Two small stones lay inlaid, a bright green and a gorgeous aqua. Makoto didn’t know if this was even real. He looked back up at Sousuke and asked plainly, “Isn’t it way too soon for this? It hasn’t even been... three weeks...” Green eyes shifted back down to the box like maybe he’d imagined it. No, that ring was still there. His heart stirred in his chest, and he bit at his lip.

“But I know! I know it’s gotta be you now...”

Sousuke sounded like he was falling apart, but Makoto was still stuck on wondering if this was actually happening. He looked up at Sousuke with round, green eyes as it slowly sank in.

“Are you... really-?” Makoto asked with an incredulous laugh, grabbing at Sousuke’s arm like that would tell him. Sousuke felt so warm, and Makoto couldn’t help but fall in love all over again, as he always did, every single day. “Sousuke...”

Makoto stared at Sousuke as he worried at his lips, smile falling away. He couldn’t say that maybe he was still waiting for Sousuke to change his mind one day. He didn’t doubt Sousuke’s love, but maybe one day he’d come to his senses and realize that dating a man like Makoto wasn’t... what he’d thought it would be. For one, it wasn’t like they could ever _really_ get married, not here.

Sousuke cupped Makoto’s face with enough force to knock the brunet out of his thoughts. Earnest aqua eyes looked at Makoto like there was nothing more beautiful in this whole world.

“Makoto,” he whispered. “For the rest of my life, I swear to love you, to protect you, to treasure you. I promise to make you confident in my love; I’ll show you each day how you mean more and more to me every single moment. My sweetest muse, my darling Makoto, please give me the chance to prove to you that I’m in this with you for life.”

“I didn’t buy this ring flippantly. I know it’s soon, but I’ve never been more sure about anything in my whole life. You belong with me, and I with you. This ring is my eternal promise to you, Makoto. I swear it. I love you.”

Sousuke’s words awakened something inside Makoto he thought he’d never feel again. When the sun hit Sousuke’s face at just the right angle, Makoto let his breath get robbed by the sight. His heart soared. This was it. This was his future, all he needed or could want. He absolutely knew that the man before him meant every word he said, and that he would be the only one to ever make Makoto undeniably happy. In this very moment, all he could see was Sousuke at 17 and all the feelings he’d felt as a teenager for his best friend. This was finally his love realized.

He laughed as he grabbed at Sousuke’s hands and the ring box, as Sousuke begged again, but Makoto had made up his mind a long time ago.

“Yes,” he whispered in a breathless rush. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”

Sousuke’s eyes went wide like he hadn’t actually thought he’d get this far, as his hands tightened around Makoto’s. “You mean it?” he whispered in shock.

“I love you, Sousuke. Of course... of course I’d say yes-

“I’d be a fool not to...” He smiled wide at Sousuke as tears ran down his cheeks. Sousuke scooped them up, fingers rubbing tenderly into the indents of Makoto’s facial scars. He slipped his hands down, and with trembling fingers, he placed the ring he’d picked out and worked hard for on his fiancé’s finger.

“Makoto,” he whispered in awe as he rushed up and pulled the brunet into a tight hug. His shoulders shook as he cried, as his voice wavered but his words were strong. “Makoto, I adore you with everything in me. You are my everything, my sun, my moon, my stars, and my sky. You’re so much more than I could ever deserve, and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart...”

“For being mine, Makoto. Thank you.”

Makoto gripped his arms in a vice grip around Sousuke, afraid to let go of this man that felt like a dream. The ring on his finger was cool, and he knew... he knew he had a lifetime of happiness waiting for him.

_Mom, Dad, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, and I know Sousuke would make you all so proud. He’s good to me, and for me, and I love him so much I can’t breathe sometimes. Please, Mom and Dad, if you’re watching..._

_Bless us. And help me make him happy._

He sobbed into Sousuke’s shoulder as words of so much love and affection rained over him, and he felt, for the first time in a long time, whole.

“Sou-“ he hushed against warm skin. “Thank you.”

Sousuke went quiet, as he pulled Makoto back and wiped his face, kissing his red cheeks and eyes. He pulled one of Makoto’s hands to his chest as his other hand rubbed at the brunet’s cheek. “For all of my life, Makoto, I’ve been waiting for someone like you. Whatever you think, or people may say, this has been a long time coming, and I should have promised you our future together a long time ago. I’m sorry, forever, for making you wait, but.. thank you. Thank you so much.” He pulled Makoto’s hands to his eyes as his tears fell, as his heart broke and healed and re-filled with his love for Makoto.

“I love you,” Makoto whispered earnestly as he pulled himself to Sousuke, as he kissed hands and cheeks and ears, anything he could. “I love you so much.”

“I adore you,” husked Sousuke. “My life, my fiancé.” He smiled wide, kissing the ring on Makoto’s fingers again, speechless.

Makoto couldn’t remember ever being as happy as this. There would always be things he’d regret, painful memories, but Makoto had lived through them all, and despite everything, he was here. Sousuke was his, and he was Sousuke’s, and everything else faded in importance in the face of those solid facts.

Forever. For a whole life time. Sousuke would be his and his alone.

“Haru will scold us,” Makoto giggled even as his eyes filled again, as Sousuke pulled him into his lap.

“He most certainly will, the busybody,” Sousuke murmured as he kissed Makoto’s lips. “He’ll say it’s too soon. It’s only been three weeks, you know.”

Aqua eyes met green and they paused for a moment, drinking it in. Makoto let out a bubbling giggle, anxiety popping like a bubble, and Sousuke grinned at him.

“Gou will be over the moon,” the dark haired male said with a proud smile, to counteract the negativity and rationality Haru was probably already building up. “And anyways, who cares,” Sousuke said with a giant grin. He pulled Makoto’s face to his own and smiled wide.

“Even if this is crazy,” Makoto whispered. Sousuke nodded.

Even if this was insane, it was love, and what was love if not exhilarating, wonderful insanity?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are 🥰 Thank you all so, so, SO much for the incredible love and support for this fic!! I have enjoyed reading all of your comments and am so glad you guys enjoyed this fic so much! 🥰💓💕 
> 
> I’m working on another mega-length SouMako fic, so keep your eye out for that! 😘


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